


unbreak my heart new (I am dissonance)

by Eternal_Peace_is_Overrated



Series: cold bones (that's my love) [5]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Allusions to Klaus Hargreeves bad past, Alternate Universe - No Apocalypse (Umbrella Academy), Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Boys In Love, Boys in Skirts, David "Dave" Katz Lives, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Ending was rewritten after posting, Flashbacks, Fluff, Ghost Ben Hargreeves, Good Sibling Allison Hargreeves, Good Sibling Diego Hargreeves, Good Sibling Klaus Hargreeves, Good Sibling Luther Hargreeves, Good Sibling Number Five | The Boy, Good Sibling Vanya Hargreeves, Happy Ending, Homophobic Language, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Implied/Referenced Prostitution, Klaus Hargreeves & David "Dave" Katz During Vietnam, Klaus Hargreeves Deserves Better, Klaus Hargreeves Has PTSD, Klaus Hargreeves Needs A Hug, Klaus Hargreeves-centric, Klaus is boys, M/M, No Apocalypse, No Incest, Non-Graphic Smut, None - Freeform, Pansexual Klaus Hargreeves, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Romance, Sibling Bonding, Sober Klaus Hargreeves, Soft David "Dave" Katz, Soft Klaus Hargreeves, Soft Number Five | The Boy, Sorry Not Sorry, Tags may be added, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, Veteran Klaus Hargreeves, Vietnam War, and better, at all, can be read as a Standalone fic, so it’s different now, upset I have to tag that but here we are, very very brief, you don't have to read the rest of the series for this to make sense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:01:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26873338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eternal_Peace_is_Overrated/pseuds/Eternal_Peace_is_Overrated
Summary: Wherein Klaus is alone until he isn't, his siblings are trying their best, the apocalypse doesn't happen, and maybe, just maybe, they can all find a little peace.***Dave is blindingly bright and so very good, and if life has taught Klaus anything, it’s that he doesn’t deserve good things.(He learned that the first time dad had shoved him into an icy mausoleum. He learned that when Luther grinned and taunted Klaus when his jaw was wired shut for eight weeks, as if it was a blessing that their brother couldn’t open his mouth, screams trapped behind clenched teeth as cold dead hands reached for him, always trying to take take take. He learned that when he woke up from his first overdose in the hospital with Diego at his bedside, looking pissed and worried but alone, and he learned it his second, his third, his eighth, when even Diego stopped coming. He learned that when weed was the only thing that kept the ghosts at bay, when that stopped working and then it was only narcotics, and then it was only crack, and then heroin, and then and then and then-)(Klaus isn’t bitter and sad, not at all).(His legal Name is still Number Four).***Standalone fic!
Relationships: Allison Hargreeves & Klaus Hargreeves, Ben Hargreeves & Klaus Hargreeves, Diego Hargreeves & Klaus Hargreeves, Klaus Hargreeves & Everyone, Klaus Hargreeves & Luther Hargreeves, Klaus Hargreeves & Vanya Hargreeves, Klaus Hargreeves/David "Dave" Katz, Number Five | The Boy & Klaus Hargreeves
Series: cold bones (that's my love) [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1931503
Comments: 36
Kudos: 343





	unbreak my heart new (I am dissonance)

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone!  
> I haven't written a fic this long in quite a while- it's not something I'm used to, or normally have the attention span to do, so yay me! I did it!
> 
> I was inspired by the rest of this series, and I wanted to essentially put it all into one fic, so here it is! Most of the scenes, save two, have been edited/rewritten/reworked to fit into the rest of the fic. Don't worry, there is PLENTY of new content as well.
> 
> You don't actually have to have even read the rest of the series for this one to make sense! This is absolutely a standalone fic, no previous knowledge of the series necessary. 
> 
> That being said, two of the scenes are directly copy and pasted with slight edits from two other fics in this series, because I was happy with how the other two fics turned out and I was struggling immensely to rewrite those two scenes: if you have read the whole series thus far and would like to skip those scenes because of it, they happen consecutively; stop reading after "time slowed down" and start again at "Klaus had only left the room for ten minutes." 
> 
> Other than that, while any scenes used from the rest of this series may sound familiar, they have been rewritten to fit within this fic! 
> 
> I struggled quite a bit with the ending the first time, but I have now rewritten and updated the ending and am much happier with it! 
> 
> I apologize for the random extra spaces with the formatting. Weird things happen with it when I use italics. 
> 
> Thank you all so much for taking the time to read this, and I hope you enjoy! 💜
> 
> (Fic title from Mercury by Sleeping At Last)

_Bright, blinding explosions lighting the battlefield._

_The piercing rattle of gunfire echoing in his ears._

_Mud and blood beneath his elbows, his forearms, soaking into his fatigues and his boots as he drags himself across the ground, heart beating a frantic staccato in his chest, breaths coming in short pants, the taste of copper and ash on his tongue, coating his throat._

_Klaus thinks his shoulder should hurt a lot more than it does- in fact, he’s pretty sure the shrapnel is still in there. He’s not really sure, though. Can’t feel much of anything, really. There’s adrenaline pumping in his veins, way better than any high he’s ever had, and he can’t even feel his arm anymore._

_He presses flat as another spitfire of bullets rains down around him, raising his own rifle and firing off a quick round in retaliation, adrenaline starting to give way to panic as he realizes Dave is_ not _behind him, where he was less than five minutes ago._

 _He almost surges upright as the horror of the realization (the implication) settles into his bones like lead, heavy and all consuming, but his training keeps his body firm to the ground, even as he shouts, desperate to be heard over the noise (it doesn’t work, it’s never worked, not before ‘Nam, and certainly not now), “Dave? Dave! Fucking hell, Dave, if you can hear me_ answer me _!”_

_(wet? he’s wet. why is he wet? that’s not right, it hasn’t rained in weeks)_

_But Dave can’t hear him, so Dave doesn’t answer him; Klaus knows, though, without a shadow of a doubt that he’s not dead (not now, not yet, it doesn’t happen for another four months but how does he know that?Why does he know that?); Klaus would know, would feel it somewhere deep in his chest if Dave were already dead (the same place that aches when he thinks of his brothers and sisters and home, the same place that goes warm and melty like chocolate when Dave hooks his pinky in Klaus’s belt loop since they can’t hold hands, the same place that beat-beat-beats the life into his body)._

_Klaus squeezes his eyes shut and breathes._

_Bullets pelt the ground around him like hail, and the crack of gunfire abruptly vanished, echoing loudly in his ears._

_He opens his eyes and there’s no mud and there’s no bodies and his shoulder doesn’t hurt; he’s lying on a familiar black and white tiled floor, suddenly, and he can’t remember how he got here- he recognizes this club, of course, always will- it’s the one in Saigon (the one his platoon always comes to, the one where Klaus and Dave became_ KlausandDave _) but it’s...different._

 _The lights are flickering and there’s spatters of blood on the floor and it’s completely, utterly_ silent _._

_Klaus stands and looks around and realizes he’s the only one here, was maybe always the only one here, and like always (he’s in an alleyway, choking on his own vomit and he knows the coke must’ve been cut with something, and he can’t breathe but no one is there to show him how), he’s alonealonealone-_

_A single gunshot cracks through the air like a whip, deafening, and Klaus throws himself to the ground, arms coming up to protect his head (helmet, helmet, where the fuck did it go?), eyes squeezing shut as he waits for pain that doesn’t come._

_(his movements are slow, like he’s dragging his limbs through water, and it doesn’t make sense. he thinks he hears splashing, but he’s the only one here and there’s no drink in his hand)_

_When he opens his eyes again, there’s a body._

_Directly in front of him, blood starting to pool around it, face first on the dirty tiles; Klaus drags himself to his knees and reaches out, slow and cautious, and turns it over._

_(“christ on a cracker, that was a close one, huh?”)_

_There’s blood, so much blood, pouring from a ragged hole in the center of its chest and Klaus’s eyes get stuck on it, terror like he’s never felt before roaring to life in his chest (it’s in that deep spot), stomach churning, but he manages to drag his eyes up to its face, and suddenly it’s like all the air has been sucked out of the room and he can’t breathe even if he wanted to (he isn’t sure he wants to, is actually pretty sure he_ doesn’t _, not now, not anymore, not ever)._

_And then he screams and screams and screams._

_“Da-_

“-ve!” With a cry, Klaus threw himself forward, fingers clutching desperately at the handles of the tub, spinning them frantically until the water turned off and the only sounds left in the bathroom were his rapid heartbeat in his ears and his own ragged breathing. 

Klaus shuddered violently, the scar on his shoulder suddenly aching intensely, throbbing painfully in time with that deep spot in his chest, before he pulled the plug and dragged himself out of the tub, not even noticing the bloody handprints he left behind, smeared across the porcelain. 

He wound a towel around his waist and staggered into his bedroom, drying himself off before tugging on the first things he could find (the comfy leather pants and an ultra soft shirt with a deep v, both of which are failing to give him the comfort they usually do), dog tags clinking gently against his chest. 

His skin felt tight and itchy, and no matter how much he scratched, it didn’t go away (he remembered this feeling from that first time around; remembered thinking it was probably just the poison in his veins); his head was throbbing fiercely, like a bad hangover but _worse_ , and his movements felt slow and sluggish, like he was trying to move through lava. 

Klaus caught his own haggard reflection in the mirror, staring back at him with haunted eyes, and for a moment he just closed his eyes and breathed, dog tags shifting with every breath. 

In. 

_(hot skin beneath his hands, fingers curled around his hips, blue eyes soft and warm, cheeks flushed red)_

Out. 

_(i love you, i love you, i love you, murmured against his lips between each gentle kiss)_

In. 

_(blood on his palms, underneath his fingernails, he can’t stop it he can’t stop it he can’t stop it)_

Out. 

_(tears on his cheeks, sobs caught in his throat, he can’t breathe, doesn’t remember how, doesn’t want to)_

In. 

_(no heart beat-beat-beating beneath his fingertips, no breath rattling his chest, no medic, no nothing)_

Out.

_(“Dave!”)_

Klaus opened his eyes at the soft knock on his door, fists clenched so tightly it was a miracle his nails hadn’t managed to cut into his palms. 

“You okay?” Five’s voice sounded somewhere near the doorway, soft and quiet, and Klaus turned his head towards his brother, blinking languidly at him. 

It took him longer than it should have to realize Five was asking _him_ that. “Yeah, just...long night.” 

Five tilted his head, gaze roaming pointedly over Klaus. “More than one from the looks of it.”

“Yep,” he nodded carelessly, lowering himself onto the edge of his bed as his legs threatened to give out. 

“Don’t remember the dog tags.” 

Klaus closed his eyes, frustration beginning to brew just beneath the surface. “They belonged to a...friend.” Ha. Friend. As if Klaus had ever had one of those (he’d had love, though, and like every other good thing, it had slipped right through his fingers; he’d been broken, left gutted and alone to piece himself back together so many times before that he’s fairly certain he’s more patchwork and paper hearts than person because of it, but he’d weathered it, just like he is now- he just didn’t remember it _hurting_ so damn much). 

“How about that new tattoo?”

“You know,” he huffed out a breath of a laugh. “I don’t totally remember even getting it.” He waved a hand at his little big brother. “Like I said, it was a long night.”

The predatory smile on Five’s face was almost ( _almost_ ) drowned out by the desperation lurking behind his tired eyes.

“You did it, didn’t you?” 

Klaus blinked at him. “What are you talking about?” 

“You know, I recognize the symptoms, Klaus.”

“The symptoms of what?” (He knew what, but he needed to _distractevadehide_ , because he was about to be gutted again and he didn’t know how to stop it). 

Five shot him an irritated glance. “The jet lag, the full body itch, the headache that feels like somebody shoved a box of cotton up into your nose and through your brain.” The edge to Five’s voice faded into something softer again. “You want to tell me about it?”

“Your pals, when they broke into the house and couldn’t find _you_ ,” he hissed, jaw clenched so tightly the muscles jumped. “They took _me_ hostage instead.” 

Five smiled again, cold and vindictive and _proud_ , voice breathless when he said, “And in return, you stole their briefcase.” 

Klaus shot him an unimpressed look. “Yeah, I thought there was money in it, or I could pawn it, y’know, whatever…” He closed his eyes, dropped his head down to stare at Five’s shoes instead. “And then I opened it.” 

Five was pacing, now, so Klaus dragged his eyes up to his brothers face, focusing once more on what he was saying. “And the next thing you know, you were where...or should I say, when?”

His frustration was dangling precariously on a wire thin string, worn and frayed and so very close to breaking. “What difference does it make?”

Five sounded incredulous. “What diff- I- okay.” He shook his head. “How long were you gone?”

“Almost a year.” 

“A year…” Five stopped pacing and watched him intently. “Do you know what this means?”

Klaus barely managed to hold back a hysterical laugh. “Yeah,” he nodded and offered up a manic smile. “I’m ten months older now.”

Five scowled. “This isn't some sort of joke, Klaus. Hazel and Cha-Cha will do whatever it takes to get that briefcase back.” He paused and looked around. “Where is it?”

“Gone,” Klaus shrugged. “I destroyed it. Poof.”

Five snarled and shoved into Klaus’s personal space. “What the _hell_ were you thinking?”

“What do you _care_?” Frayed, oh so frayed.

“What do I care- I- I needed it, you moron, so I could get _back_ , so I could start over-”

And the string snapped, fire coursing through his veins white hot, and suddenly Klaus couldn’t be here anymore, _needed_ to be anywhere else; preferably somewhere Five _wasn’t_ . He stood and shoved Five roughly out of his way, heading for the door before he did something ridiculous and childish like punch the thirteen year old in the face, or knee him in the balls or _something-_ “Just- enough. Interrogation is over, okay? Just leave me alone.” 

“Wait.” 

Five’s voice was soft again, and trembled ever so slightly over the word ( _vulnerable_ , Klaus’s mind supplied, _he’s vulnerable_ ). 

( _“Weak,”_ Reginald Hargreeves snarled).

Klaus waited. 

“I’m sorry,” Five continued, and perched on the bed, patting the spot next to him invitingly. “Tell me. I’ll listen, and I won’t even judge.” Klaus turned and shot him a disbelieving look, so Five acquiesced. “Much.” 

Klaus turned that over in his mind, anger leaving as fast as it had come, before nodding and settling himself on the bed beside Five. 

Five remained silent, waiting, until Klaus finally spoke.

“I wasn’t going to come back.”

“Why?”

“I met someone.” 

“What was her name?” 

“ _His_ name was Dave.” Here, Klaus watched Five’s face intently, waiting for something, _anything_ really. Klaus was fairly certain his siblings knew he wasn’t straight, but he hadn’t ever explicitly _said_ it, just let them make their assumptions (or lack thereof). 

But Five, bless his little black heart, he didn’t react beyond a courtesy nod. Klaus’s eyes flickered over to where Ben was sitting quietly on top of his dresser as he listened, an encouraging smile on his face, before going back to Five, who was watching him expectantly. 

“We soldiered together in A Shau Valley, in the Mountain of the Crouching Beast.” Klaus closed his eyes at Five’s sharp inhale.

“Vietnam?” 

Klaus nodded wordlessly. 

“Well,” Five said after a moment of silence. “Dave must have been a very special person, then, to put up with you.” 

Klaus blinked his watery eyes back open and laughed, the sound humorless and sad even to his own ears. “He was! He was kind, and strong, and vulnerable, and beautiful.” _(Dave’s hand is on his cheek, in his hair, and Klaus is certain he’s talking but he can’t hear the words over the pounding of his own heart; a hand is on his shoulder, and a man with pretty eyes is introducing himself as Dave, and Klaus feels a little bit safer; he’s counting Dave’s freckles with his lips and Dave is laughing joyously, and Klaus has never been happier). “_ Beautiful,” he whispered reverently. 

Five’s hand came to a rest on his knee, gentle and reassuring, and it made Klaus’s eyes burn with unshed tears. He blinked up at the ceiling for a moment, willing them to go away. 

“You want to know the craziest part though, Five?” He looked back down at his brother. “The craziest part is, I loved him but- but he loved _me,_ too. He loved me and he _said it_ , Five, all the time. Even places he might have been heard. He made sure he told me every day, and he said he was going to keep saying it until I believed him. Twenty-eight years I’ve spent in this hellscape, and no one has ever said that before.” Klaus choked on his next breath, a sob trapped in his throat; a dam, about to break. “And I was foolish enough to love him back, to follow him all the way to the front lines.” He curled his fingers tightly in the comforter, trembling. “He’s _gone_ , Five. He’s...I love him and...a-and...” 

“And he’s dead anyways,” Five finished softly, before the implications of Klaus’s words set in and he repeated incredulously. “You love him, and he’s dead, and you think that’s because you went and loved him at all.” 

“I wouldn’t have come back,” Klaus repeated miserably. 

Five stared at him, horror and sorrow melting the ice in his eyes. 

“You wouldn’t have come back,” Five said slowly. “But the world needed you back.” 

Klaus nodded again. 

Five stared at him for a moment longer before swearing colorfully and abruptly pulling Klaus into his lap, holding him close (he has never understood why love has to hurt so much; he’s being held like he’s worth holding and it _hurts_ and he can’t figure out why). 

The dam broke, and then Klaus was sobbing, wet and ugly. 

“He told me he was gonna get me a ring once we got stateside.” Klaus giggled hysterically through the tears. “He was gonna put a ring on it, Fivey.” Grief reared its ugly head once more, a tidal wave battering Klaus’s already broken heart (he never realizes how many pieces his sad little heart even has left to break until it’s left weeping once more). “He wanted to _marry_ me. We were going to have a life together, Five. We were going to have a _life_.”

He wasn’t sure how long he cried for, but by the time he stopped, he was _exhausted_ , slumped against Five’s chest, trying to breathe through his stuffy nose. 

“I can’t promise anything,” Five started, and Klaus pushed himself upright on shaky arms to look at him. “The odds are metaphorically stacked against us, more so than I would like them to be. But I _can_ promise I will do everything I can to get him back to you.” 

Klaus just...stared, wide eyed, unblinking and uncomprehending, voice small when he asked. “You’ll help me? Why?” 

Klaus didn’t have anything to offer Five. He didn’t have money, he didn’t have any expensive toys or trinkets, and it wasn’t like he could offer his little big brother sex ( _ew_ ) or drugs (Five wasn’t _ever_ going to touch those; Klaus would make sure of it). 

Five looked uncomfortable, but powered through. “Klaus, I didn’t travel back in time just for the _fun_ of it. The only reason I’m here at all right now is for you. All of you.”

Klaus blinked slowly at his brother before a wobbly but genuine smile worked its way onto his face. 

“Thank you.” 

“I already told you I can’t promise any-”

“Five,” Klaus cut him off gently. “I know. But you’re _trying_ . And that’s more than I can say for a lot of people.” He shot Ben an apologetic look, because he certainly wasn’t included in _that,_ but Ben just offered him a small, sad smile and nodded in understanding. 

Five pursed his lips and stated like it was a fact, obvious and unarguable despite the many arguments Klaus did, in fact, have, “That’s what family is for,” before blinking out of the room in a flash of blue (running from emotional confrontation- typical, in their family). 

He reappeared a moment later, however, to grab Klaus into a rough hug and mumble into his hair, “I love you,” before blinking back out. 

Klaus sat frozen, something warm and peaceful washing away some of the coldness in his chest.

(Dolores must have pestered Five into doing that, but he still _did it_ , and that’s- that- Klaus’s mind couldn’t really process the warm fuzzy feelings it induced). 

Ben, too, was staring at the spot like he couldn’t quite comprehend what had just happened. 

“Did he just-”

“ _Yeah_ ,” Klaus breathed, awestruck. 

“Wow.” Ben whistled, hopping off the dresser to come sprawl across Klaus’s bed instead. “I think you might be the first one of us he’s ever said that to.” 

“Crazy, right?” 

Ben huffed. “You’re not as hard to love as you think you are, dumbass.” 

Klaus whipped his head around to stare incredulously at his ghostly brother. “ _What_?” 

Ben shifted a bit, clearly uncomfortable (must be a Hargreeves thing), but said, “If you hadn’t come back, you would’ve died without ever having heard one of us say it. It’s unfair, and it’s stupid, and I’m sorry I haven’t said it before. So. I love you.”

Klaus stared some more, honestly feeling like he was about to burst into tears _again_ , even though he was certain he didn’t have any tears left in him. 

“I-” Klaus cleared his throat and swiped his arm across his eyes. “I love you too.” And then he made a shooing motion, ushering Ben off his bed. 

“Okay, alright, I’m going,” Ben grumbled. “Clearly, you’ve met your emotional quota for the day.” And then his eyes softened. “Get some rest. I’ll keep watch.” 

Klaus murmured a soft “thank you” and bundled himself up mummy style in all of his blankets, curling up on the bed and finally ( _finally_ ) letting sleep take him. 

***

Waking up after crying your eyes out all over your little big brother was a distinctly unpleasant experience. 

His eyes were too dry, and his nose was still stuffy, and he felt completely, utterly wrung out. 

But his stomach was rumbling, and there was a readily available food source waiting right downstairs, and he knew if he ignored it he would get Ben’s Look of Disappointment (either #2 or #8), so he dragged himself out of bed and bundled himself up in his comforter, stumbling downstairs and into the kitchen, nearly taking Vanya out with his blanket fortress. 

“Jesus,” Vanya breathed, blinking at Klaus with wide eyes. “I’m sorry, I’m not sure how I didn’t...see...you…” She frowned, peering closer at his face and his undoubtedly swollen, red eyes. “Are you alright?”

Klaus debated lying for a moment; he truly, genuinely did, but his little sister was looking at him with those big sad doe eyes of hers, and he realized he didn’t actually have the energy for it- instead, he decided to do something absolutely _unheard of_ in their family. He told the truth. 

“No,” he answered, truthfully. 

Vanya’s eyebrows shot up towards her hairline but she nodded and rested a hand somewhere in the general area of his lower back (maybe? It was hard to tell through the puffy comforter) before guiding him towards one of the kitchen chairs. “Tea? Maybe some toast, too?” she asked, and Klaus nodded wordlessly, watching her putter around the kitchen. 

It was a familiar sight, and even if it was with the wrong person, it ignited something warm and fuzzy in his chest that he had thought had been forever extinguished the moment he’d witnessed the love of his life bleed out on cold packed dirt. 

_(Dave is in the motel kitchenette, and he’s wearing the stupid little frilly apron Klaus had gotten him last night as a gag gift; he_ loves _that thing, too- his face had absolutely lit up with joy and he’d put it on immediately, while Klaus swooned and told him he could be his housewife._

_“Tea?” Dave asks, and Klaus thinks about it for a moment- thinks about asking him to add a finger of whiskey, if he’s being perfectly honest, before deciding against it- and nods._

_“That sounds absolutely wonderful.”_

_Dave smiles, and it’s one of those ones that makes Klaus’s stomach flutter; he shouldn’t still be getting butterflies over a man he’s been in a relationship with for six months, but he thinks that’s just how it’s always going to be with Dave. He supposes he can deal with butterflies for the rest of his life, if it means Dave is going to smile at him like that._

_“You know,” Dave ponders as he makes the tea. “I’m thinking we need a house in the countryside, instead of that cabin we talked about last time.”_

_“Oh?” Klaus sprawls out on the bed on his stomach, chin in his hand, elbow propped up on one of the pillows._

_“Mm,” Dave hums. “We could get a couple of cats n’dogs, maybe a few chickens so we could have fresh eggs every mornin’. Maybe even a cow or two for milk.”_

_“That would be difficult to do in a cabin in the woods,” Klaus says agreeably (he would live in a hole in the ground if Dave asked him to)._

_“Exactly!” Dave flashes another smile at him, stirring sugar into the tea. “I think the farmland would be nice, too- we could make sure we got lots of land, that way we could still have our privacy. Could make sure we have a big ol’ tree in the yard that we can hang one of those swingin’ chairs from.”_

_“Well, if we’re going to do that, we need to make sure we save enough space for a garden, too. Fruits and veggies, and of course one for flowers. Oh! Can we get sunflowers? They’re so pretty.” This is a familiar little game for them- whenever they get time alone like this, they discuss what kind of life they’re going to have once they get stateside. Sometimes, it’s a little log cabin in the woods, with a big fireplace and one single bedroom so they don’t ever have to worry about overnight guests; sometimes it’s a beach house, just off the ocean with a window facing the water right in front of their bed so they can watch the sunrises and sunsets all cuddled up; sometimes, it’s an apartment above a bakery so that their home always smells like baked goods; it changes, but this little farmhouse has come up more than once, both of them continually adding to it, making it even more_ theirs _with every conversation (it’s far fetched and they know it, but hope is a dangerous thing that neither of them have ever been able to let go of)._

_“‘Course we can,” Dave nods. “So long as we can get tulips, too. Every color they got.”_

_Klaus chuckles. “That’s a lot of tulips.”_

_“Well, they were mama’s favorite; must’ve rubbed off on me,” Dave admits._

_“Well, you certainly didn’t get her talent for baking,” Klaus teases, and Dave adopts a look of deep offense._

_“Hey now, I ain’t that bad!” he protests._

_“Honey, you_ butchered _her cookie recipe last time we were on leave.”_

_Dave looks thoughtful for a moment before huffing out a breath. “Okay, I guess you’re right. Just don’t tell her that, else she’ll skin me alive!”_

_Klaus laughs as Dave brings his tea over and sets it carefully on the nightstand. “Wouldn’t dream of it, dearest,” he sing-songs, sitting up properly and dragging Dave down for a passionate kiss._

_When they finally part, Dave looks a bit dazed and asks breathlessly, “What was that for?”_

_Klaus beams up at him, warm and happy, and says, “Oh, I love you, that’s all.”)_

Vanya set the mug and a plate on the table in front of him, the sound of glass on wood startling him back to the present. 

He blinked down at it for a moment, the scent of peppermint catching in his nose, before he curled one hand around the mug, soaking in the warmth, the other snatching up a piece of toast for him to idly munch on.

“Thanks,” he murmured, and Vanya smiled. 

“You’re welcome.” She paused and stared at him for a moment, mouth opening like she was going to say something, before her cell phone rang and she startled. “Oh, sorry, I have to take this. Give me a moment.”

She disappeared out of the kitchen and Ben took her place, watching him cautiously. 

“You okay?” he asked, and Klaus sighed and shook his head, drawing the mug closer to his body. “Okay. You want to talk about it?”

“Not particularly.” 

“But Vanya is probably going to ask,” Ben pointed out, always the rational one, and Klaus sighed again. 

“I know. 

“Will you talk about it with her?”

“If the mood strikes me, I suppose.” 

It was Ben’s turn to sigh, before he tipped his head back to stare at the ceiling like he was praying for the strength to overcome Klaus’s obnoxious, well, everything (it wasn’t an unfamiliar look, and normally it would make Klaus grin like a maniac). “You need to talk to _someone_.” 

“I talked to Five last night!” Klaus protested, spraying crumbs everywhere before swallowing down the last of his toast, and Ben rolled his eyes. 

“You did, and I’m proud of you for that, _but_ you’re still upset. You don’t have to go into detail, Klaus, but just...talk to her. Please. For me.” 

Ugh, Klaus _hated_ when Ben said ‘please’ and ‘for me’ in the same sentence; he could never say no. Why couldn’t he have just played the dead card instead?

“Ugh,” Klaus voiced. “Fine.” 

He fell quiet, shooting his smug brother a glare as Vanya came back into the room. 

“Sorry about that,” she murmured, making herself a cup of tea as well before settling in the chair opposite him. “I totally forgot I had a lesson with a new student today, but I was able to cancel his appointment. Teaching adults is harder, anyways,” she shrugged. “So. What’s wrong?” 

Klaus groaned dramatically and bemoaned, “What _isn’t_ wrong, dear sister?”

But Vanya, bless her little heart, just stared at him with a gentle, encouraging smile, and waited for him to tell her all on his own. No pushing, no interrogation, just patience and understanding (no wonder she and Ben had always gotten along so well- endless wells of patience, those two). 

“I…” He hesitated for a moment, eyes searching her face, before taking a deep breath and just- _talking_ . About everything. About Hazel and Cha-Cha, about the briefcase, about Vietnam, about _Dave_ ; about how he’d found love (true, genuine, unadulterated and uncomplicated love) and about how he’d lost it. 

Word vomit, that was what was happening, but Vanya just listened quietly, sniffling occasionally, her hands making their way across the table to hold both of his. 

She was silent after he finished, taking a moment to process, her eyes shining with tears (god, it was like the ants all over again), before she abruptly shoved her chair back to come around the table and pull him against her tiny frame. 

Klaus froze for a moment, unsure (this was the second time in the span of twenty-four hours that one of his siblings was hugging him- he was pretty sure he had _never_ been hugged this much by them before), before his arms got with the program and wound around her hips, his face ending up smushed against her stomach. 

“I’m so sorry, Klaus,” she whispered, quiet and genuine. 

Klaus just shook his head and hugged her tighter, pretending he didn’t feel the tears on his face, before he pulled back and wiped at his eyes with one corner of the blanket. 

He felt wrung out and tired again, but he and Vanya had _never_ spent this much time together, just the two of them, so instead of going and taking a very long nap, he asked, “Do you want to give each other pedicures?”

And that’s how Five found them nearly an hour later, with Klaus struggling to keep his hand steady enough (withdrawals were a bitch) to paint Vanya’s toes Barbie pink to match his own, while he listened to her chatter about her life. 

Klaus glanced over as Five came in and grinned, waggling his eyebrows and waving the bottle of nailpolish in invitation. 

Five looked like he was going to say something; argue, maybe yell at them for wasting time because “the apocalypse is in three goddamn days, Klaus”, but instead he just let out a long suffering sigh and kicked his shoes and socks off, making his way over to where they were tucked onto a chaise lounge in the living room, doors closed so they didn’t have to keep looking at the broken chandelier in the entryway (neither of them had wanted to be reminded of Hazel and Cha-Cha, or Luther’s newly discovered monkey status). 

Klaus scooted forward, bringing Vanya’s foot with him so he could keep painting, leaving the space behind him open for Five; Five settled into it easily, peering over Klaus’s shoulder, a line of warmth at his back, before he scoffed. 

“That’s not how you do it, Klaus; you have to cap the edges; it’ll make it last longer.” 

Klaus turned to shoot him an incredulous look- even Vanya was staring at him like he’d grown a second head, and Ben let out a hoot of laughter from his sprawl on the opposite chaise lounge. 

“What?” Five asked defensively. “Dolores liked having her nails painted whenever I could find usable polish.” 

That made significantly more sense than Five randomly researching the proper way to paint nails, though Klaus certainly wouldn’t put it past him (his brother could get very weird). 

“Well,” Klaus groused. “Pardon me, o’ wise one.” But he let Five instruct him anyways, listening intently (he loved nailpolish, dammit, so he may as well learn how to do it _properly_ ). 

Five spent the next fifteen minutes criticizing Klaus’s technique, complimented him one single time (“I suppose it doesn’t look completely terrible”), and praised the shit out of Vanya’s work when she took over to paint Five’s toes. 

“You’re worse than the withdrawals,” Klaus grumbled from his new place perched on the back of the lounge as he braided Vanya’s hair. They had shifted again to make room for them all; Vanya and Klaus were in the center of the chaise, while Five had his back resting against the arm, feet in Vanya’s lap, a margarita in one hand (because apparently trying to stop the end of the world meant underage day drinking was a perfectly acceptable thing to do), the other hand curled loosely around Klaus’s ankle.

“Whatever you say, kiddo. You’re just upset because my technique worked better,” Five said succinctly, wiggling the toes of his one fully painted foot while Vanya worked on the other. 

Ignoring the pleasant jolt in his chest when Five called him that, Klaus said, “Well I didn’t think you turned into a nail technician in the apocalypse, Five!”

If Vanya was surprised by how naturally “kiddo” had just rolled off of their grumpy brother's tongue, she didn’t show it; instead, she rolled her eyes, pausing to take a drink of her tea. “This color looks quite nice on the both of you,” she said, attempting to diffuse the argument. 

It worked. 

“Thank you!” Klaus crooned happily- he had always looked _damn_ good in pink. 

“Hm, it does, doesn’t it?” Five mused. 

“We all totally rock it,” Klaus agreed. “You too, Vanny.” He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead before continuing to braid her hair (it was so damn _long_ ). 

Vanya offered up a small but genuinely pleased smile, and continued painting Five’s nails, while Five had begun to rant once more about proper nail-painting etiquette. 

Klaus let the words wash over him, content and relaxed in a way he didn’t think he’d ever been around his family (excluding Ben, of course), fingers continuing the calming repetitive motion of the fishtail braid, Vanya’s back warm against the one leg he had behind her, Five’s thumb stroking idle circles around the ankle bone of the other, soothing and instinctive. 

(They don’t know it yet, but this is how the apocalypse _doesn’t_ happen; with hot pink pedicures, a dose of long overdue family bonding, and three emotionally incompetent adults who finally get their shit together enough to realize they love each other). 

***

_Klaus isn’t sure when he fell in love with Dave._

_Maybe it was that first night in Saigon. Maybe it was that time he made Dave laugh so hard he cried, and Klaus realized how beautiful that boy is when he smiles. Maybe it was that first night, when Klaus appeared in a tent in the middle of the night covered in his own sweat and blood, and found himself trapped in sleepy blue eyes. Maybe it was that day on the bus, that first “just get to the country?” and a warm hand in his own. Or maybe it wasn’t any of those. Maybe it wasn’t just one moment- maybe it was a hundred moments, a thousand, a million; incremental, until it hit him all at once, sudden and irreversible._

_It’s midnight, and Klaus can’t sleep because he’s holding an absolutely beautiful man in his arms and he realizes:_ I love him. 

_Klaus has shoved the motel window open, curtains closed just in case someone decides to be nosy, but the cool fresh air feels heavenly on his sweat sticky skin- they really should have showered, after, but Dave always got clingy and cuddly and Klaus could never say no. Especially not after Dave had plowed him enthusiastically into the mattress (to be perfectly honest, he wasn’t entirely certain his legs still worked)._

_He gently smoothed Dave’s hair away from his forehead and Dave snuffled in his sleep, mashing his nose into Klaus’s neck._

_He really was beautiful- Klaus couldn’t look away. Tanned skin pale in the moonlight shining through the windows, hair blond and silky, dark eyelashes fanned out against his face, and christ, the_ definition _._

_Klaus always did love beautiful things._

_But the things Klaus loved were always beautiful on the outside, and nothing but rot and poison on the inside (re: the drugs). Maybe it was a sign of who Klaus was, or maybe it was just his own bad luck that drew him to things he shouldn’t be drawn to._

_Dave, though. Dave is different. Dave isn’t rotting on the inside like Klaus is; Dave is blindingly bright and so very_ good _, and if life has taught Klaus anything, it’s that he doesn’t deserve good things._

 _(He learned that the first time dad had shoved him into an icy mausoleum, and all the times he did it after. He learned that when Luther grinned and taunted Klaus when his jaw was wired shut for eight weeks, when Allison praised the silence, as if it was a blessing that their brother couldn’t open his mouth, screams trapped behind clenched teeth as cold dead hands reached for him, always trying to take take take. He learned that when he woke up from his first overdose in the hospital with Diego at his bedside, looking pissed and worried but_ alone _, and he learned it his second, his third, his eighth, when even Diego stopped coming. He learned that when weed was the only thing that kept the ghosts at bay, when that stopped working and then it was only narcotics, and then it was only crack, and then heroin, and then and then and then-)_

_(Klaus isn’t bitter and sad, not at all)._

_(His legal name is still Number Four)._

_So, no, Klaus doesn’t deserve good things._

_But._

_But that doesn’t stop him from wanting, and Dave? Oh, Klaus_ wants _._

_He really hasn’t asked for a lot. He’s long since resigned himself to his sad little life; to dying alone in some dirty back alley with a needle shoved in his arm, or with some strangers cock down his throat, or entirely unnoticed in some flashy rave surrounded by people he’s never really met but has possibly bought drugs from. He knows who he is, what he is, where he fits._

_It’s not with someone like Dave._

_Someone who's just as trapped as Klaus is; the only difference, really, is that Dave is still trying to live up to an impossible legacy, and Klaus stopped trying years ago._

_But Dave, he still tries._

_Because that’s who Dave is: he doesn’t give up on things he believes in, not even here, with the never ending bodies and a rifle in his hands and blood under his fingernails, sleepless and starved and terrified._

_And somehow, Klaus has had the privilege of becoming one of those things._

_Really, he isn’t sure how to deal with the sheer weight of it._

_This thing they have, whatever it is, has only been going on for two months, and it started_ fast. _Hardly even a month after Klaus had arrived in the country Dave’s hands had been on him, underneath soft neon lights behind a swaying beaded curtain that didn’t hide them nearly as well as their drunk minds had thought. They hadn’t been caught, somehow (it would have been worth it anyways; Klaus would’ve gladly let himself be beat to death in a Vietnamese disco if it meant he had the privilege of being kissed by Dave)._

_Three months. Klaus has been in Vietnam for three months. He didn’t think that was enough time to fall in love with someone._

_He was wrong._

_And boy, did he fall._

_He fell so hard his knees were bruised and bloodied and his hands were scraped raw._

_Blindsided, completely and utterly blindsided, and he doesn’t think the adrenaline from it will ever wear off._

_Because he’s in love, and he’s in love with someone who maybe hopefully loves him back._

_It’s a heady feeling, entirely overwhelming in a new and confusing way._

_He thinks...he thinks he’s been waiting for Dave for all his life._

_Klaus holds Dave closer and just breathes, settling a hand (_ hello _) over Dave’s chest where he can feel his heart beat-beat-beating, steady and strong._

_He presses his lips to Dave’s hair and smiles the first genuinely happy smile he’s had in years, whispering to a silent moonlit bedroom,_

“ _I love you.”_

_***_

Klaus blinked his eyes open, slow and sluggish, and stared up at the ceiling. 

His cheeks were wet. 

It had been three months since the apocalypse _didn’t_ happen, and things have...well, they’re not better, but they’ve improved. 

Klaus can take a bath without the sound of the running water turning into the sounds of gunfire; flickering light bulbs don’t remind him of helicopters as often as they used to. And, despite the desperate, ferocious _need_ that has been plaguing him since he returned, he’s stayed sober. He hasn’t even raided the bar. 

He’s been _good_ , he’s been- healing, or some shit like that, but. 

But sometimes, particularly after he’s tried (and failed) summoning Dave for the, oh, hundredth time, the idea of slipping beneath the water in the tub and just never coming back up has seemed...appealing. 

He wouldn’t. He couldn’t, knows himself well enough that it’s not something he would ever go through with (purposefully, at least), but the temptation is there. Not always, not even most of the time; just on the bad days, and those are getting fewer and farther between. 

His eyes flickered over to his bedside table and he sighed: four a.m. Unsurprising, but still unwanted.

Well, no point in staying in bed, now. He knew he wouldn’t be able to fall back asleep no matter what he tried- short of waking Luther up to choke him out, but Klaus was fairly certain the big guy would balk at the idea of a little light strangulation. 

So to the kitchen he went, hoping a mug of tea might calm his jittery nerves (Vanya had gotten him hooked on the stuff, and he supposed it was better than any of his previous addictions). 

It turned out, however, that he wasn’t the only one having trouble sleeping. 

Five was awake. 

And not only was Five awake, he was _drunk_. 

Perched at the table, wearing his little old man bathrobe, clutching a half empty bottle of scotch, drunk as a skunk _drunk_. 

Klaus sighed, staring forlornly at his little big brother and suddenly understanding how Ben felt a little bit more. 

“Okay,” Klaus clapped his hands loudly together, causing Five to startle and then glare. “That’s enough of that for one night. Morning. Whatever.” He reached over and yanked the bottle away; Five hissed like a cat and made grabby hands, attempting to get the bottle back before apparently deeming it too much work and slumping back in his chair. 

“You’re no fun,” Five grumbled. 

Klaus gasped. “Excuse you, I am an absolute _delight_.” 

The look Five gave him said very clearly what he thought about that, so Klaus rolled his eyes and made two mugs of peppermint tea, shoving one into Five’s hands before settling down in a chair next to him, cradling his own mug in his hands and soaking in the warmth with a content sigh. 

Five broke the comfortable silence they had fallen into in a record time of three minutes and thirty two seconds- about two minutes longer than Klaus had him pegged for.

“Do you regret it?” 

Klaus blinked lazily at him. “Do I regret what?” 

Five gestured grandly around. “Oh, y’know,” he said, and Klaus really, actually didn’t, which he told him. 

Five, the little devil, groaned and glared like his own lack of complete sentences was _Klaus’s_ fault, before elaborating slowly, as if he were talking to a very slow child, “The briefcase. Vietnam. _Dave_.” 

That-

That’s-

That was not something they talked about. Ever. 

Something in his chest clenched painfully (that deep spot, again), just as it always did when he thought about Dave, but he knew without a shadow of a doubt what his answer would be. He had thought about it a lot, actually, and his answer had never changed; hadn’t even wavered. 

“No.” 

Five looked vaguely surprised at the simplicity of his answer. 

“But he’s dead,” _and you’re not_. 

Klaus let out a breath and stared down at the chipped purple nailpolish on his nails so he wouldn’t have to look at his brother. He wasn’t sure what he would see in Five’s face, and he didn’t want to know. 

“Yeah,” Klaus swallowed heavily. “Yeah, he is, and it fucking sucks, but I will _never_ regret loving him.” 

Five stared at him, inscrutable and intense, before finally asking, “Why?”

Klaus let out a breath of a laugh because that- that one was _easy_ , despite how hard Five seemed to be making it (as if he didn’t understand, as if he wasn’t the one who might just understand the _most_ why Klaus would want to keep loving someone when loving them hurt so much). 

“Because I love him,” Klaus answered simply, but when Five continued to stare at him expectantly, Klaus continued. “Because I love him, Five. He made me want to be better, no matter how many times he told me I didn’t need to be _better_ , for him or for anyone else.” He shook his head. “I had to travel fifty years into the past and halfway across the world to find someone to tell me that. To find someone who loved me just as much as I loved them; no questions, no conditions. I don’t think I’ve ever been happier than when I’m with him. Loving him was worth losing him-” _even if it hurts so much I can’t breathe_ “-even if I wish I never had to lose him at all.” 

“You said-” Five cut himself off and cleared his throat before trying again. “You said he was going to buy you a ring.” He tilted his head, watched Klaus far too intently for someone with half a bottle of alcohol in them. “Would you have said yes?”

“I wouldn’t have even had to think about it.” 

Five stared at him for a moment longer before abruptly lurching forward, mug forgotten on the table, and pulled Klaus against his small frame. 

Klaus froze as Five sniffled in his ear, before asking incredulously. “Five, are you- are you _crying_?”

“No!” Five denied immediately, a little _too_ vehemently. 

“Oh, you _are_!” Klaus crowed, holding his little big brother closer. 

“You- it’s just- it’s not _fair_. You had love, you had happiness, and you lost it and it just-” Five slumps against his chest. “It’s just not fair.” 

Klaus’s heart may have melted, just a little bit. 

“No,” he agreed quietly. “It’s not. But it’s just life, Five. That’s all.” 

“Life fucking sucks,” Five grumbled, face mashed into Klaus’s chest. 

“It really does.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

Klaus blinked wetness from his eyes and stared determinedly at the wall. “Me too, Fivey. Me too.” 

Five went silent again, and when he did speak, his voice was soft and hesitant. “If you could do it all again, would you?”

Klaus’s answer was immediate. “In a heartbeat.” 

Five hummed and nodded, settling more comfortably against Klaus’s chest, before his breathing evened out and he started to snore softly.

Klaus stared down at him, wide eyed and panicked, eyes flickering over to the door as Ben wandered into the kitchen and then froze, looking bewildered. 

“Is he _asleep_?” Ben asked, leaning closer to peer at Five’s face. 

“Yes!” Klaus whisper-yelled. “Do I wake him up?! Poor little dude doesn’t get enough sleep, but-”

“-but if you stay like this, he’ll probably stab you with whatever he can reach when he wakes up,” Ben finished, look of astonishment melting into one of deep amusement. 

“Exactly! Should I try to carry him upstairs?”

“With your noodle arms? You’d drop him, and then he might actually kill you.”

Which honestly probably wasn’t wrong. 

Klaus silently ran through all of his options, trying to calculate what would end with the least amount of maiming, before he groaned quietly and tried to settle himself more comfortably in the chair. 

Ben made a face. “Seriously?”

“Do you have a better idea?” 

“Just wake him up!”

“Those bags under his eyes are big enough to fit my entire wardrobe, Ben!”

“Fine,” Ben conceded. “But it’s your funeral.”

“Mine will have much more fanfare than yours,” Klaus sniffed derisively. 

“That’s rude,” Ben said mildly. “Besides, I got a statue.” 

“I’ve written into my will that I’m to have a parade.” 

“Your will?” Ben snorted. “You mean that piece of cardboard you were scribbling on with chalk that one time after you got high off your ass and tried to wax your ass with chocolate pudding?”

“Dear brother, I didn’t _try_ to do anything; I succeeded! Now shoo, you’re going to make me wake Five.” 

Ben rolled his eyes and flipped him the bird before walking right through the door to go do whatever it was ghosts did at night without so much as a backwards glance, which, _rude_. Absolutely no concern for the brother who was most likely going to be brutally maimed within the next few hours. 

Ah, well. 

It was worth it. At least Five was comfortable, and sleeping. 

Actually, now that he thought about it, Klaus was feeling a little sleepy, too. The warmth of Five’s little body was a lot more comforting than it had any right to be, and while Klaus would never admit it, he had been _desperately_ missing all the physical contact he had gotten when he was with Dave- he had always been tactile, and Dave had always been more than happy to indulge, but Klaus wouldn’t _dare_ ask his siblings for a hug. He’s fairly certain they would probably just laugh. 

But this...this was nice. 

And Klaus needed all the nice things he could get; so, with heavy eyes, he curled both arms around Five’s body to keep him on the chair, and let himself drift. 

***

_“Well, the clock says it's time to close now_

_I guess I'd better go now_

_I'd really like to stay here all night_

_The cars crawl past all stuffed with eyes….”_

Klaus froze. He wasn’t sure who was playing the song, though the most likely culprit was Luther (he had a thing for vinyl), and no way in hell was Klaus marching upstairs to tell him to turn it off. 

The song echoed loudly in his ears- just another ghost to add to his collection. 

It shouldn’t bother him. It shouldn’t, it was just a _song,_ and yet it still sent ice down his spine, sudden and all consuming, chest tightening until it was a struggle to pull in a breath. 

_It hurts_ , he thought distantly, fingers absently finding the dog tags; he was floating, and he knew if he didn’t find something to anchor him to solid ground, he might not come back down. 

_“Street lights share their hollow glow_

_Your brain seems bruised with numb surprise_

_Still one place to go_

_Still one place to go….”_

He thought he may have felt a hand on his arm, fingers gentle as they guided him...somewhere, but he wasn’t sure. Neon lights were flickering at the edges of his vision, the floor beneath his feet wavering sickeningly between carpet and black-and-white tiles, bass pounding disconcertingly in his chest. 

He stumbled over his own feet, eyes darting around the club as he searched for Dave, confusion warring with concern as he realized he couldn’t _find_ him, panic settling into his bones. 

This was- this was their club, this was their _song_ , he wouldn’t just _leave_...would he? 

No, no, Dave _wouldn’t_ , he’d told Klaus he loved him, that meant something, that meant _everything,_ but he was nowhere in sight and no matter how loudly Klaus shouted for him, he didn’t _come_ -

_“Let me sleep all night in your soul kitchen_

_Warm my mind near your gentle stove_

_Turn me out and I'll wander, baby_

_Stumblin' in the neon groves…”_

He tried to shake off the fingers on his arm but they tightened, not letting him get away, and he turned his head to snarl, to spit and fight and yell at them to just get the fuck _off_ , when his eyes latched onto a familiar shock of dark curly hair. 

Klaus went still, blinking rapidly as he tried to clear his vision, twin tears falling down his cheeks at the motion, eyes finally focusing on-

Allison. 

_Oh._

Right. 

He offered up a weak smile, uncurling his fingers from around the dog tags as his bedroom swam back into focus, while Allison frowned at him in concern, reaching out to gently wipe the tears from his cheeks. 

“What was that, Klaus? Are you alright?” 

And Klaus couldn’t help it- he laughed, sharp and bitter, and asked, “Would you care?”

Allison reared her head back slightly and blinked at him in shock, in hurt. 

_“Well, your fingers weave quick minarets_

_Speak in secret alphabets_

_I light another cigarette_

_Learn to forget, learn to forget_

_Learn to forget, learn to forget….”_

Guilt niggled at his chest and he winced, absently rubbing a hand over his heart. 

Slowly, his sister released her hold on his arm. 

“Right. That’s- that’s fair,” she said hollowly. “Right, well then I’ll just-”

“Dance with me,” he blurted, suddenly desperate for- something, anything really; a smile, a kind touch, for someone to tell him it would be alright, to just be _okay_ for one goddamn minute and not be plagued by something he couldn’t ever fucking _change_ , desperate for one moment where he could just _live_ without seeing flashes of a life that had ended over twenty years before he’d been born-

Well. 

There was a lot that he was desperate for. 

But one simple little dance with his sister, surely that was achievable?

“ _Let me sleep all night in your soul kitchen_

_Warm my mind near your gentle stove_

_Turn me out and I'll wander, baby_

_Stumblin' in the neon groves (yeah)...”_

Allison stared at him for a very long, very silent moment, before she started to smile. 

“Sure, Klaus,” she agreed, and that was all Klaus needed to hear before he was grasping both of her hands in his and whisking her off in a whirlwind of movement. 

Allison laughed, startled and pleased, and somehow managed to guide his flailing limbs into something akin to an almost presentable ballroom dance, albeit with much more twirling than would ever be necessary or accepted in a true ballroom. 

Slowly, the cold thing in Klaus’s chest started to melt into something warmer, and he couldn’t help but giggle as Allison went up on her toes and raised their joined hands above their heads to spin Klaus until he was dizzy with it, drawing him back in and throwing both of her arms around his shoulders with a delighted squeal. 

He smiled, bright and carefree, and spun them again, if only because his skirt flared dramatically around him whenever he did and it was _fun._

_“Well, the clock says it's time to close now_

_I know I have to go now_

_I really wanna stay here_

_All night, all night, all night.”_

The song tapered off, melting into something more mellow and slow, and Klaus beamed and slowed to a stop, chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath. 

Allison giggled as he grabbed her hand and bowed, pressing a kiss to her knuckles and murmuring, “Thank you for this dance, m’lady.” 

Allison drew her hand back and mock curtsied, fingers delicately pinched around her invisible skirt, before she laughed again and threw herself down onto his bed.

Klaus sprawled across it as well, propping his head up on her thigh. Allison huffed and swatted at his forehead before settling, leaning her back against the wall, fingertips absently twirling Klaus’s curls. 

“So,” she asked finally, and Klaus sighed, letting his eyes fall closed in defeat. He knew she wouldn’t let it go, but he had foolishly hoped. “Want to talk about it?” 

“No,” Klaus mumbled, and waited for the inevitable anger, the annoyance, the disappointment. 

But that wasn’t what happened. 

Instead, Allison merely hummed and said, “Okay,” 

Klaus’s eyes shot open, and he stared up at Allison in shock. Allison offered up a small, hesitant smile, and gently tugged at a lock of hair. 

“We’re trying to be better, aren’t we?” She asked. 

Klaus’s head lolled to the side as Ben slipped silently out of the room, before he refocused his attention on his sister. 

“Better?” He asked. “Better at what?”

Allison huffed. “I don’t know. Better talkers, better listeners, better siblings, better _people._ Just...better.” 

Klaus hummed softly. “We haven’t been very good to one another, have we?” 

Allison sighed, let her head thump back against the wall. “No,” she agreed. We really haven’t.” 

“Speak for yourself,” a voice said from Klaus’s doorway, and he tipped his head to the side to peer at Diego. “I’m awesome.” 

“Awesome,” Allison grumbled as Diego shoved Klaus’s legs out of the way to plop down on the bed as well, before resettling them in his lap. “Sure, that’s what you are.” 

Diego ignored her, pinching Klaus’s calf and ignoring his half hearted “hey!” to do it again to the other one. “So? What are we talking about?” 

“Nothing,” Klaus answered quickly- too quickly, judging by the way Diego’s eyes narrowed. “Nothing I want to talk about,” Klaus amended, and Diego sighed. 

“It’s not good to keep it bottled up, bro.” 

Klaus shot him a look of disbelief. 

“Okay, okay,” Diego grumbled. “So I don’t always practice what I preach. But I’m trying.” He poked Klaus in the ribs, so Klaus tipped his head in concession because...well, he _was._ Trying, that is. They all were. 

Klaus eyed his siblings, a confusing mixture of hope, defeat and pride squirming to life in his chest because honestly, they were all _trying,_ and for the most part, they were all doing better. 

Oh, they all still fought like champions, all perfectly aimed barbs and knife sharpened claws, and some days they couldn’t even be in the same room together because, as Klaus discovered, merely _breathing_ could be considered annoying, but...they were still trying. 

Klaus figured he could try a little bit, too, 

So, fingers curled around the dog tags and eyes firmly on the ceiling, Klaus talked. 

And talked. 

And talked. 

And by the time he had finished, Allison was crying and Diego was manfully sniffling into his sleeve, and Klaus felt somehow both drained and lighter, like he had after his talk with Five, with Vanya, as if someone had just taken a fifty pound weight off of his shoulders (the whole world was already there, he shouldn’t be able to feel that there was even a difference at all, but he _could_ , somehow, and it felt...good). 

“You loved him?” Allison asked, reaching out to gently swipe away some of Klaus’s tear-smudged eyeliner. 

“Still do,” Klaus admitted quietly, and Diego made a constipated face, like he wanted to punch something but also like he wanted to feed Klaus cookies until he felt better. 

“I’m sorry, bro. That fuckin’ sucks,” Diego said, and Klaus snorted because yeah, that just about summed it up. “Still doesn’t mean you have to go through this alone, though.” 

“Yeah!” Allison piped up. “Whenever you’re...struggling, you can totally come to one of us! I’ll take you shopping, or- or to get your nails done, or to...see a movie?” 

“I could teach you how to throw knives,” Diego pondered idly. “Or how to drive, so you don’t have to keep bumming rides off of others,” though the look Diego shot him said _“off of me_ ”, and honestly, Klaus was fairly certain he was getting whiplash from how many different emotions he’d felt in the last half hour. 

“I-” he cleared his throat and tried to wipe subtly at his eyes, which wasn’t very effective when his head was pillowed on his sisters lap, and his legs in his brothers. “Thanks.” 

They were all silent for a long moment, staring at one another, before Diego stood abruptly- he would have dumped Klaus on the floor if it wasn’t for Allison’s quick reflexes, and Klaus’s ability to cling like a particularly stubborn octopus. 

“Well,” Diego mumbled. “I just need to- there’s some stuff that needs...fixing. Y’know. Manly stuff.” Before he was out the door, pausing in the doorway to stare intensely at Klaus before stomping off down the hallway. 

Allison snorted and much more gently deposited Klaus on the bed, dragging a pillow underneath his head before she stood as well. 

“Seriously, Klaus, thank you for telling us. I know that must have been hard. Come to us- any of us- if you need anything, okay?” 

Klaus swallowed dryly and nodded. “Yeah, I- yeah. Thanks, Ally.” 

Allison smiled brightly and leaned down, pressing a kiss to his forehead before leaving, quietly shutting the door behind her. 

Klaus laid there, trying to process the confusing amount of both negative and positive emotions fighting within him, until Ben wandered back in and broke the silence. 

“Well, that was sweet.” 

“Ben!” Klaus gasped. “I knew you were eavesdropping. At least allow me to keep my illusions of privacy by not _telling me_ about it!” 

Ben grinned smugly and said, “Never,” before sitting cross legged at the foot of Klaus’s bed. “Seriously though, Klaus, I’m proud of you. I’m proud of them, too.” 

“Yeah yeah,” Klaus grumbled and curled up on his side, hugging a pillow to his chest. 

“I am!” Ben defended, and Klaus kicked at him, ignoring the sudden chill that went up his spine when his feet went straight through his brother’s stomach. Ben shot him an unimpressed look. 

“I know! I know, okay, now shh. Sleepy time, I’m _sleepy_ , and you’re not being very considerate by keeping me up.” 

Ben rolled his eyes. “Whatever you say, Klaus. Go to sleep, I’ll stop being so _inconsiderate_ now.” 

Klaus grumbled to himself but drew his blankets around him, bundling himself up and letting his eyes fall closed and his breathing even out. 

Just before he drifted off, he heard Ben say quietly, “I love you, bro.” 

Klaus smiled, and for the first time in a long time, he didn’t dream at all. 

***

Klaus remembered the first time he met Dave. 

He remembered being thrown onto cold, muddy ground, body aching and head splitting. He remembered the harsh rattle of gunfire and the ground trembling beneath him as explosions rocked the earth. 

He remembered trekking through a hot, humid forest in ill fitting fatigues in pitch blackness, the only light coming from an occasional explosion or spitfire of bullets, with that stupid fucking briefcase clutched desperately to his bloodied chest. 

He remembered the second time he met Dave, too, or maybe just the _official_ time. 

He remembered fear and confusion clinging to his bones, and a hand settling on his shoulder. 

He remembered clear blue eyes and freckles; he remembered sun-kissed cheeks, and golden curls plastered to sweat slicked skin, and he remembered _“shit’s crazy, I know. Don’t worry, you’ll adjust_.” 

He remembered a warm hand in his own, the way their fingers lingered just a bit too long each other's hand.

He remembered a bright, genuine smile, and the way Dave’s eyes found his and never really left. 

But more than anything, he remembered _The Moment_. 

The split second decision that would forever alter the course of his life, impulsive and risky and so very worth it, even if it ended with him broken open and laid bare, bruised and bleeding. 

He remembered staring at the beautiful man in front of him, with the pretty eyes and the kind smile and the strong hands, and he remembered thinking _this could be something amazing_. 

_(he remembered an absolutely miserable night in the rainforest, the air damp and hot, skin sticky with sweat, feet throbbing and bloody in his boots; he remembered leaning his shoulder up against a palm tree, rifle propped up against his hip as he kept watch; he remembered strong arms slipping around his waist, and a warm body pressing up against his, lips peppering kisses along the back of his neck; he remembered teeth gently biting at the shell of his ear and hot breath puffing against his skin; he remembered “I love you,” and even though Dave had said it a thousand times before, it still caused Klaus’s heart to race, still inspired the same feeling of awe that it always did, knowing he got to love and be loved by this wonderful man)_

He didn’t open the briefcase again for ten months, and it _was._

It was amazing, and life changing, and incredible and mind boggling. 

It was _everything,_ the span of his entire life brought down to the ten months he spent outside of his time, in the middle of a bloody war zone, desperately protecting the heart of a beautiful, kind boy that held his own with gentle, calloused hands. 

It was three in the afternoon and Klaus remembered because, somehow, Diego had found a _picture_. 

Oh, the quality was absolutely _terrible_ , the black-and-white photo old and grainy, and Dave was hardly visible, surrounded by the rest of their platoon, but he was _there_. 

Klaus had only had his memory to remind him of how Dave looked- of the cut of his jaw, of the brightness of his smile, of the way his hair curled at the front sometimes like Superman (Dave was _way_ better than Superman)- but Klaus’s memory had never been the greatest. Years of hard drugs and alcohol would do that, but Dave wasn’t something Klaus could _ever_ afford to forget, and it hurt to know that his face had gone blurry in Klaus’s mind. 

But now he had a real, physical reminder. Klaus had definitely started crying when Diego had deposited the photo into his hands. Diego had gone bright red and gave him an awkward side hug before skedaddling out of the room like it had just burst into flames. 

Klaus scrubbed the sleeve of Luther’s sweatshirt across his eyes (it was big and cozy and warm) and stared at the picture, trying to burn Dave’s face into his memory (he couldn’t quite remember how Dave had laughed, or how strong his southern twang was, or the pattern his fingers would dance across Klaus’s skin, and that hurt, too; knowing this was all he had left). 

He was interrupted, however, by a bang from the doorway and muffled curses. 

Ah, Luther. 

Klaus carefully placed the picture face down on the kitchen table and curled his hands around his now cold mug of tea, turning to peer at Luther as his brother rubbed at his head and glared balefully at the doorframe. 

“You okay there, big guy?” Klaus asked, flashing an amused grin and hoping his brother wouldn’t notice his red, swollen eyes. 

No such luck. 

Luther opened his mouth to answer and then frowned at him, lumbering over to settle his considerable bulk into one of the kitchen chairs, the wood groaning concerningly beneath his weight. 

“Are _you_ okay?” Luther asked instead, looking awkward and uncomfortable but earnest, and Klaus gaped at him in shock. 

Jesus. Allison hadn’t been lying. They really _were_ trying. 

“I, uh,” Klaus stammered, and Ben shot him a glare over Luther’s shoulder. 

“This is your chance, Klaus,” Ben urged. “Tell him. You’ve told the others, he deserves to know, too.” 

“Um,” Klaus said again, and Ben shot him patented Disappointed Look #17. Klaus caved (that look was Serious Ben, the look that meant he was about to say “please” and “for me”, and Klaus could only handle emotions from one brother at once, thank you). “Um. I’m not great,” Klaus admitted. “But I’m doing a lot better.” He put his tea down and flipped the picture over, hesitating before pushing it closer to Luther. 

“That’s Dave,” Klaus said, tapping a finger over Dave’s face. Luther leaned closer and squinted down at the photo, before looking back up at Klaus with wide, lost eyes. 

“Who’s Dave?” Luther asked, and Klaus carefully took the picture back, smoothing both of his hands over it and staring down at Dave’s smiling face. 

“Everything ,” Klaus murmured. “He was everything.” 

And, for the third time, Klaus repeated his story. 

With Luther, it was nothing more than bare bones. Luther had always been the one to anger easiest, always the one to point fingers first, always the one to sneer and call Klaus “ _liar_ ”, to brush off his words like dirt, to smash them into the ground and salt and burn them like they weren’t worth the grave they were buried in. 

“I’m sorry,” Luther said, honest and sincere, leaving Klaus to stare at him, slack jawed and wide eyed. 

“You’re _what_?” 

A muscle in Luther’s jaw jumped.. “ _Sorry._ I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that, and I’m sorry you had to go through that alone.” 

Klaus couldn’t help but bark out a harsh laugh. “I wasn’t _alone._ I had Dave.” _He was more than enough, he was everything I’ve ever wanted, and he felt the same about me. I was never alone, then, even when I was._

“Okay,” Luther put his hands up placatingly. “When you got back, then. I’m sorry you had to suffer alone.” 

“You...believe me,” Klaus said skeptically. 

Luther’s face pinched off into an unreadable expression, but Klaus thought it looked a bit like...regret? Guilt? Things Luther, on principal, tended not to feel, or chose to ignore. 

“I do,” Luther nodded. “I probably wouldn’t have, before, and I’m sorry for that too, but I do now.” 

“I-”

“I know there’s a lot I have to apologize for,” Luther hurried to say before Klaus could respond. “To you, to everyone, so _I’m sorry._ I haven’t been the best leader, but worse, I haven’t been the best brother. I’m Number One, I’m supposed to be-” he cut himself off with a sound of frustration. “That doesn’t matter. I just hope you can forgive me.” 

Klaus stared at him in shock, mind completely blank, frozen as Luther waited quietly for a response and stood when he didn’t get one, offering a sad smile before slipping quietly out of the kitchen, ducking his head beneath the doorframe and disappearing from view. 

Only Ben’s hissed “ _Klaus!_ ” got him moving again, racing after his brother before throwing himself on his back. 

Luther, the bastard, didn’t even stumble. 

“Wait!” Klaus cried, arms thrown haphazardly around Luther’s neck, legs dangling uselessly in the air behind him. 

“What, Klaus?” Luther grumbled, curling his big hands around Klaus’s wrists to support his weight and stop him from continuing to strangle him. 

“Forgiven! You’re totally forgiven, big guy, to be honest I wasn’t even really _mad,_ it’s just- I just- it’s what I expect now, y’know? I don’t exactly make myself very reliable,” he giggled nervously. 

“No,” Luther said immediately, trying to crane his neck around to see Klaus. “You maybe don’t make the best decisions, sometimes, but you’ve never lied about the important stuff, have you?” 

“Well,” Klaus shrugged. “No reason to lie if people won’t believe me anyways.” 

Luther made a pained sound. “ _Exactly,_ Klaus, that’s exactly what I mean.” 

Klaus stilled as realization started to creep in. “Oh,” he said dumbly. 

“Yeah, _oh._ And that’s our fault, Klaus; we were idiots, and we didn’t ever believe you when you said the important things that we didn’t want to hear. We blamed it on the drugs, or the drinking, or just thought you wanted attention, and that was awful of us. Of me. So don’t- don’t forgive me like I haven’t done anything wrong, or like it doesn’t matter to you, because I _know_ it does. I have to _earn_ your forgiveness, Klaus, so please just...let me try.”

“I...yeah,” Klaus said faintly, still reeling from shock (Luther believed him! Luther believed he was telling the truth when he told him something far fetched and damn near impossible. Christ, Luther was _apologizing_ and he _believed_ him, a day Klaus never thought he would see _)_ , wiggling until Luther released him. “Yeah, okay.” He dropped down onto the hardwood and, before he could talk himself out of it, wound his arms around his brother's waist from behind, mashing his face into Luther’s back. “Thanks,” he mumbled, words muffled by the stupid overcoat he still insisted on wearing. 

“I…” Luther cautiously placed his hands over Klaus’s. “You’re welcome.” 

Klaus wasn’t sure how long they stood like that, but he knew it was long enough for his arms to go numb. That didn’t matter. He didn’t want to let go. 

Hearing Five loudly clear his throat definitely convinced him otherwise, though, and both he and Luther sprung apart like they’d been caught doing something compromising. 

“As touching as this is,” Five said, eyes locked onto Klaus’s with such intensity that his stomach churned uncomfortably with dread, and he had to look away. “Klaus, I need to speak to you. Alone. Right now.” 

***

Five was pacing. 

He was pacing, and mumbling to himself, and tugging at his own hair, and Klaus was fairly certain he had forgotten he was even there. 

Worry had set in about fifteen minutes ago, and panic was swiftly following, because Five hadn’t looked like this since the apocalypse, and _that_ in and of itself was concerning, not taking into account the fact that Klaus didn’t think recently turned fourteen year old bodies should be dealing with the amount of stress Five was clearly under (though what from was still a mystery, because while Five was talking, he wasn’t talking _to_ Klaus, just...near him). 

Klaus shared a look with Ben, who shrugged. 

“I dunno, man,” Ben said, eyeing Five warily. “I mean, pretty sure we stopped the apocalypse, and he would’ve told us if we hadn’t, right?” 

Klaus’s eyes flickered to Five and then back to Ben before he nodded minutely, not wanting to talk and break whatever spell Five was under. 

“Maybe it’s just- stress in general then? I mean, it can’t be easy, he’s going through _puberty_ again-”

“Oh my god, _he is_ ,” Klaus gasped, because he _was_ and that absolutely warranted a response. 

That, however, had the unfortunate side effect of Klaus becoming the new object of Five’s attention, his little big brother’s eyes zeroing in on him with startling intensity. 

Even Ben froze, staring wide eyed at their brother as if he could actually _see_ him (which he _couldn’t_ , Ben, Jesus Christ), breath held as if he needed to breathe at all. 

“Okay, that’s creepy,” Ben said finally, walking closer to their silent brother and waving a hand in front of his face. 

Five, obviously, didn’t even blink. Partially because he was still too busy staring at Klaus, partially because, once again, _Five could not see Ben,_ though Klaus had clearly gotten their shared brain cell for a day because Ben had apparently forgotten he was, in fact, a ghost. 

Ben stuck his hand through Five’s face, and that at least got a reaction. 

Five scowled and turned his intense stare to Ben instead, eyes finding his invisible brother _eerily_ easy, and snapped, “Stop that.” 

Ben was so startled that he yelped and actually lost his hold on his physical form for a moment, winking out of existence before popping back into visibility a second later, looking frazzled. 

Klaus nearly brained himself on his own knee, he was laughing so hard. 

“Oh, oh, Jesus, that was _good,_ ” Klaus wheezed, and realized it felt _good_ to laugh like that (he hadn’t laughed that hard in _months_ , and he certainly hadn’t laughed like that since he’d gotten back from Vietnam). 

Five must have come to the same conclusion, because he looked like he wanted to be annoyed but couldn’t bring himself to be in the face of Klaus’s obvious joy. 

“Whatever,” Ben grumbled, and went to sulk in the open spot next to Klaus, arms folded over his chest. 

Klaus just smiled, bright and joyful, before turning back to Five. 

“Okay,” he said. “Can we talk now? Or are you just going to keep stress-pacing. You might actually wear a hole in the floor, you know.” 

Five rolled his eyes, before any mirth faded from his expression and he settled himself down on the coffee table in front of Klaus. 

“Listen, kiddo,” Five said softly, eyes settled firmly on something on Klaus’s chest, and Klaus froze when he realized it was his (Dave’s) dog tags, his anxiety skyrocketing. Ben frowned and shifted his body closer to Klaus’s, a line of cold along his side, and Klaus was more grateful for that than he could say. “I have something to tell you, and it _is_ good news, probably the best news I could ever give you, but you _will_ be upset that I didn’t tell you sooner.” 

Klaus was pretty sure his heart stopped beating. 

“What is it?” He asked, mouth suddenly dry. 

“I didn’t think there was anything I could do,” Five started. “When you first told me about Dave. Had he not died, you wouldn’t have come back, and the world needed you back. The only solution I could come up with to ensure Dave lived would have been to make sure he never got drafted at all, but that would have meant he wouldn’t have met you, and vice versa, so really, that was never an option. I pondered this for quite a while before the solution hit me, so easy it was _stupid_ that I hadn’t seen it earlier.” 

Klaus’s palms were sweating, and his heart had kick started again, beating erratically against his ribcage. He felt like he couldn’t breathe, and he stared at Five, wide eyed and unblinking. 

“You only had to _think_ he died,” Five continued, and then shook his head. “The timing was the most difficult part. Too soon, and you would have seen me. Too late, and he was already dead. It took four separate tries,” and wasn’t _that_ ironic, four tries, Number Four “but I did it.” At this, Five looked up at Klaus’s face, searching. Klaus felt- something, start to stir in his chest, something warm and peaceful and exciting, something like _hope._ “I did it,” Five repeated. “He’s alive, and given another few weeks, he’ll be fully healed.” 

“He’s alive,” Klaus asked faintly, head swimming dizzily. “ _He’s alive_. He’s alive, because you- you saved him?” 

Five nodded. “Yes.” 

“Oh my god,” Klaus mumbled, stunned. “Oh my god.” 

“Ask to see him!” Ben urged excitedly. 

“ _Oh my god_ ,” Klaus repeated. 

Five eyed him nervously. “I understand if you’re upset. I shouldn’t have kept this from you, but I didn’t want to tell you until I knew for certain it would work, and that he would survive.” 

“ _Upset_ ?” Klaus stared at his brother incredulously, shocked from his stupor by the sheer _stupidity_ of that statement. “Five, you- you literally _time travelled to save the love of my life_. And you think I’m going to be upset because you didn’t tell me sooner?”

“Well-”

“And, not only that, you actually _succeeded_ in saving him? And, let me reiterate, because clearly something is off in that funky little brain of yours, you think I would be upset?!”

“Okay, when you put it like that, it sounds…”

“Stupid? Absolutely ridiculous? Insanely, completely _ludacris_?” Klaus shook his head. “Five, for someone so smart, you can be really stupid sometimes.” 

“Yeah,” Five murmured. “I know.” 

Klaus stood abruptly, his stomach fluttering with nerves. “Can I see him?” 

“I- yes, of course.” Five stood as well, smoothing out invisible wrinkles in his shirt before motioning for Klaus to follow him (Ben stayed in the living room, watching them go with an encouraging smile). 

They ended up standing outside of Five’s closed bedroom door, and Klaus could have laughed at the sheer genius of it (none of them would ever _dare_ barge into Five’s room without explicit permission- the one and only time any of them had ever tried, Luther had ended up with a pen sticking out of his arm). 

Heart beating rapidly against his ribcage, Klaus held his breath and twisted the knob, pushing the door open and stepping inside, gaze quickly moving around the room, eyes skipping past various medical supplies and equipment, searching, until-

t

i

m

e

s

l

o

w

e

d

d

o

w

n

.

“ Dave .” 

He- he was beautiful , and he was there and he was breathing, staring at Klaus with wide, watery eyes and Klaus didn’t even hesitate, throwing himself into his strong arms, knowing without a doubt that Dave would catch him. 

Klaus didn’t even realize he was crying, sobbing really, until Dave guided Klaus’s face into his neck and murmured softly, “Shh, shh, darlin’, you’re alright, don’t cry, don’t cry…”

“You’re- Dave, you’re here -” Klaus choked out, clinging tightly to him, revelling in the familiar strength and the warmth and the realness of the arms around him. 

“I’m here, darlin’, and I’m not going anywhere , not ever. You have me, I’m yours, I’m so sorry I was gone for so long, but you have me now, okay, Klaus? I'm here and I’m yours,” Dave whispered into his hair, and Klaus let out a watery laugh. 

“You’re here and you’re mine,” Klaus repeated, finally pulling back enough to look him in the face, just taking him in (those eyes, god , those eyes; Klaus could get lost in them). 

Carefully, Klaus brought his hands up, fingertips trailing gently over Dave’s face, tracing delicately along his cheekbones, his nose, the line of his jaw, until finally he cupped Dave’s face and kissed him, soft and gentle and desperate, and Dave kissed him back like he had been drowning, too, and Klaus was the first breath of fresh air (Klaus knew the feeling, except he’d been drowning for so long he didn’t even remember what fresh air was until now). 

When they finally broke apart, it was only far enough for Klaus to rest his forehead against Dave’s, breathing with him, hands running along Dave’s ribs, his shoulders, his back- anywhere, really, that he could feel warm skin beneath his fingertips ( _here, here, he’s here, he’s home_ , his heart was singing, and he couldn’t be bothered to shut it up). 

“I love you,” Klaus whispered. “I love you, I love you, _I love you_.”

 _(i should have said it more,_ he remembered thinking on a rainy October morning as he absently adjusted the “14” and the “59” numbered candles in the frosting) 

“I love you too, Klaus. Fuck, I love you so much ,” Dave murmured, holding him tighter, voice soft with awe, as if he couldn’t believe it was possible to love someone this much (Klaus knew the feeling). 

“Thank you for this,” Dave continued, and it took Klaus’s hazy mind a moment to catch up, but when he did, he turned himself in Dave’s arms, feeling Dave’s heart beat-beat-beat against his back, tangling their fingers together and resting their hands on his own stomach. 

“It’s nothing,” Five dissmissed. “It’s well within my capabilities, don’t worry-” 

And that- that simply would not do.

“It’s not _nothing_ ,” Klaus said vehemently, and Five looked surprised at the ferocity of his reaction. “It’s- Five, it’s everything . This is everything; you’ve given me everything . Thank you. Seriously, FIve, thank you .” Tears were in his eyes again and he hastily swiped them away. “Don’t you dare try to minimize what you did for me.”

Five stared at him for a moment before swallowing and nodding. “I won’t. I’m not.” He paused, said instead. “I’ll try not to.”

And that would have to do, for now, because Five looked like he was about ready to bolt, fingers clenched into tight fists at his sides, cheeks flushed pink. 

“Okay,” Klaus said. “Okay. Can- can he…” He motioned towards Dave, and then towards the door. 

Five glanced between the two of them, brows furrowed, before nodding. 

“Yes, he can. _If_ ,” Five stressed. “There is absolutely no strenuous activity. He still needs his rest.” 

Klaus gasped and threw a hand over his heart. “ Me? Strenuous activity with my recently un-deceased boyfriend? Never .” 

“Klaus, I’m serious-” 

“I know! I know.” And then Klaus sighed, schooled his expression into one more serious, because he _did_ know. Dave had taken a bullet to the chest, and that wasn’t something someone could just walk away from. Really, sex hadn’t even crossed his mind. All Klaus wanted was to fall asleep in Dave’s arms (he never wanted Dave to let go). 

Five eyed him for a moment before his gaze softened. 

“Okay then. Straight to bed; if anything happens, you can come find me.” 

Klaus smiled and unwound Dave’s arms from around him, keeping their fingers tangled together, and led him to the door, chest swelling happily when Dave squeezed his hand gently. 

He paused as they passed Five, letting go of Dave’s hand just long enough to wrap Five up in a tight hug, whispering, “Seriously, Five, thank you. I…”

And Five didn’t push; he knew Klaus well enough that he didn’t need to. “I know, Klaus. You’re welcome, and I love you too.” 

Klaus just shot him a watery smile and then turned back to Dave, who was watching him with such softness (Dave was the only one who’s ever looked at him like that, like he was something precious, like he was someone that deserved to be loved unconditionally), and then lead him up to his bedroom, pulling him into bed and curling up beneath a pile of soft blankets with him. 

Klaus remembered the first time he met Dave. 

He remembered the fear and the confusion and the chaos. 

He remembered how imperfect it was, how scary it was to know he’d found _his person_ in the middle of one of the bloodiest wars in history. 

He remembered thinking how unfair it was, having to travel halfway across the world and back fifty years to find someone who he loved and who loved him.

He remembered a moment just like this, fifty years back, curled up underneath scratchy blankets in a shady motel that charged by the hour and didn’t ask any questions, and he remembered thinking-

Oh.

 _Oh_. 

_It’s you._

_You’re who I’ve been waiting for ._

He tilted his head up to meet Dave’s eyes, found Dave was already watching him with a gentle smile, like Klaus was everything he had ever wanted. 

“It’s you, you know,” Klaus whispered. 

“What’s me?” Dave asked, voice sleepy, eyes soft and warm. 

“You’re the one I’ve been waiting for, I think.” 

“Oh,” Dave nodded, and said like it was obvious. “I know. You’re the one I’ve been waiting for too, Klaus.” 

“Oh,” Klaus murmured, pillowing his head on Dave’s chest; he couldn’t stop smiling. 

“Yeah, _oh_ , silly.” Dave pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “Go to sleep, Klaus.” 

“What if this is a dream? What if I wake up and you’re not here?” Klaus asked in a small voice. Dave’s arms curled tighter around him. 

“This isn’t a dream, darlin’, and I’m not going anywhere. Not ever.” 

Warmth curled in Klaus’s chest, and he pressed a gentle kiss to the bandage in the center of Dave’s chest, tangling their legs together and tightening his arms around Dave’s waist until they were so wholly intertwined that there wasn’t even an inch of space between them. 

“Love you,” Klaus mumbled sleepily. 

He could hear the smile in Dave’s voice when he said, “I love you too, darlin’.” 

Klaus drifted off slowly, feeling warm and safe and content, cradled lovingly in the arms of his beautiful, sun-kissed boy. 

***

Klaus woke to a heavy arm draped across his chest and panic stirring in his gut, causing his heart to beat erratically in his chest. 

He’d woken like this more than once, and he’d learned the best way to handle it was if he pretended he was still asleep; sometimes, if he was lucky, whoever’s bed he was sleeping in would just poke or kick at him until he woke and ask him to leave, shoving his clothes at him and barely waiting until he had his pants (or skirt, or dress) on to shove him out the front door. 

Sometimes, though, particularly if it was a mans bed he was warming, he wouldn’t be so lucky; sometimes he’d be shoved off the bed and cursed at, as if it was his fault that they had slept with a man (“fag” is what they usually used, if he were being perfectly honest), as if he wasn’t just using his body to find a bed to sleep in when the snow started, as if he hadn’t lost his humility ages ago. 

Didn’t stop his cheeks from flaming red with anger (fear, embarrassment, _shameshameshame_ ) as he would stumble out the door wearing nothing more than his underwear, clothes strewn carelessly onto the ground around him. 

So he waited, with bated breath and a racing heart, to see what kind of person this would be, before his sleep addled brain registered the familiar scent of cinnamon-orange aftershave. 

The panic bled into confusion, into realization, into elation. 

With a smile, he blinked his eyes open, tilting his head up just enough that he could see Dave, who was already awake and watching him with a gentle smile, fingers idly playing with Klaus’s curls. 

“Good mornin’, darlin’,” Dave murmured, voice still rough with sleep. 

Klaus grabbed the hand of the arm wound around him, bringing it up to his lips and pressing a kiss to his palm. “Morning, lovely.” 

“Wish I got t’wake up to this every mornin’.” 

Dave was still half asleep, not awake enough to bother covering the twang that slipped into his voice, and it just made Klaus’s smile widen. 

“You can now,” he pointed out, pressing another kiss to Dave’s knuckles, and Dave chuckled, dropping the hand he had in Klaus’s hair to stroke a thumb over his cheekbone instead, nudging his head up to look him in the eyes. 

“Hm. Guess I do. Don’t know how I got so lucky,” he mused. 

Klaus laughed softly, watching the way Dave’s eyes crinkled when he smiled, before he wriggled his way on top of Dave, thighs splayed across his hips, careful not to put pressure on the shiny pink scar in the center of his chest, resting their tangled fingers on Dave’s stomach instead. 

“You?” Klaus scoffed. “No, if anything, I’m the lucky one. Do I need to go find a mirror?” He exaggeratedly looked over Dave, wriggling his ass down into his crotch with a lewd wink. “No, nope, definitely still me. I’m very lucky.” 

Dave laughed, soft and melodic, and gently swatted at his thigh with his free hand. “Stop that. You remember what your brother said ‘bout “strenuous activity”, dont’cha?” 

Klaus sighed dramatically. “Unfortunately.” 

Dave rolled his eyes, saying, “How ‘bout you let me make myself useful n’hop off so I can go get us some breakfast?” 

“No!” Klaus answered, maybe too fast (definitely too fast, if the way Dave was looking at him now meant anything).

“Don’t want me wanderin’ around your home?” He asked lightly, though his brow was furrowed in concern. “You hidin’ me or somethin’?” 

“Yes,” Klaus grumbled. “From my nosy siblings.” He sighed. “I’ll go out and get us something, okay? But...I don’t want this to end, yet.” 

It was a testament to how well Dave knew him that he didn’t have to ask what “this” was, just nodded in understanding and squeezed his hand.

“It doesn’t have to end, darlin’,” he said gently. “If they make things complicated, it’ll still be you n’me. You know that, right?” 

“I know,” Klaus nodded. “Just. Not yet. Please?” 

With a gentle sigh, Dave nodded and settled back against the bed more comfortably. 

“You’d better bring me back some damn good coffee though.” 

Klaus laughed, tumbling off the bed and stepping into his pants, dragging a shirt (Dave’s, too big and flowy on him but still too short, stopping just below his belly button) over his head. 

“I know just the place,” he said with a grin. “How do doughnuts sound?” 

*** 

With an actual pep in his step, he made his way back out Griddy’s door, armed with a bright pink box of doughnuts and a drink carrier with two cups of coffee before he paused and back tracked, staring intently at the various 25¢ vending machines before shifting everything to one hand and rooting around in his pocket for a quarter (he found three), before dropping it in the one he wanted and twisting the handle, peering at what he got before tossing it in the trash and trying again. 

“What are you doing?” Ben asked, peering over his shoulder, and Klaus absently shushed him, finally getting what he wanted with his last quarter (third times a charm, thank god), before tucking the little plastic bauble into his pocket and heading for home, smiling happily, humming tunelessly to himself (and Ben).

“No, seriously,” Ben pestered. “ What are you doing? Why are you smiling like that? You’re scaring people.” 

“Because I’m happy, Benny boy!” Klaus exclaimed, spinning in a wide circle before hastily dodging past a little old woman who shot him an unhappy glare despite his own apologetic smile. 

“But why ?” But then Ben paused and then looked mildly disgusted. “Do I even want to know how it went with Dave?” 

“Don’t you already know?” Klaus stopped and stared over at Ben. “ _Mein bruder_ , I know you creep on people at night. Did you not…?” 

“Ah, well,” Ben shrugged, scratching at his head. “Five put a sign up on your door? Threatened anyone who bothered you with physical violence.” 

Klaus blinked at him. “Huh. Is it still up? I didn’t even see that.” 

They continued walking. 

“Yeah,” Ben nodded slowly, eyeing him warily, and Klaus rolled his eyes, approaching the door to the Academy. 

“Relax, Ben, everything’s fine. I have a plan, I’ll explain later. Just- go make sure the coast is clear, okay? I don’t want to run into anyone.” 

Ben frowned at him for a moment before nodding and slipping right through the closed door, returning after about two minutes and saying, “Everyone is still in bed except for Five, and he’s just muttering to himself and doing- math, or something.” 

Klaus snorted but nodded and slipped quietly in the front door, making his way up to his bedroom and pausing at the hand written sign that was indeed taped to the front of it. 

_‘If anyone enters this room, I will find every single pen in this house and_ _STAB_ _you with them. Repeatedly. Understand?_

 _(You too, Ben, and I_ _will_ _find a way)’_

_-Five’_

Klaus huffed a laugh. “Sounds like Five. ‘K, you stay here, Ben, I’ll explain later, bye!” 

Without giving Ben a chance to answer, he slipped inside, closing the door behind him (he would’ve locked it, but dear ol’ dad took those off ages ago). 

“Dave! Darling, light of my life, apple of my eye, peanut butter to my-” He was cut off, however, as Dave stood and took the coffee and doughnuts from him, setting them on the desk before winding his arms around Klaus’s waist and drawing him into a kiss, soft and warm and intimate , leaving Klaus chasing his lips when he finally pulled back. 

Klaus blinked his eyes open slowly, forehead resting against Dave’s, meeting his eyes (big and blue and beautiful, watching him like he was the moon and the stars and the whole god damn universe), and said breathlessly, “Hi.” 

Dave laughed softly, hugging him closer. “Hey.” 

“What was that for?” 

“Can’t I kiss you just ‘cause I can?” 

Klaus grinned. “Well, I’m certainly not going to argue with that.” And then kissed him again, pulling back before the passion could overtake them (dammit, Five ). 

“So!” He said brightly, tugging Dave down to sit across from him on the bed, folding his legs beneath him. “Doughnuts?” He snagged the pink box. “I realized I don’t actually know what kind you like the most, so I just...got one of each.” 

Dave smiled warmly, saying, “That’s perfect, Klaus.” Before peering at the selection, fingers hovering over the box before he finally ended up selecting a powdered jelly filled one, taking a bite and humming happily, tongue darting out to catch some wayward jelly that was clinging to his bottom lip. 

Klaus followed the movement with his eyes and whimpered.

Dave laughed, bright and happy, and said, “Get your mind out of the gutter!” 

“Never!” Klaus declared dramatically. “That’s where my mind belongs, it’ll never leave!” 

Dave laughed and then went back to his doughnut, while Klaus just...watched him, absently rubbing his hands up and down Dave’s thighs, feeling the strong muscle shift and shudder beneath his touch. 

_(they’re in Saigon, and they’ve tucked themselves into a private little corner, and Dave is talking. Klaus isn’t sure what about, can’t concentrate past the liquor and the want that’s burning in his veins, eyes tracking the bob of Dave’s adam's apple when he swallows, the way his lips move around his words, the crinkles at the corners of his eyes from smiling too much, the way his hair sticks to his forehead, damp with sweat from all the dancing they’ve done tonight. And then Dave isn’t talking anymore, or at least his lips aren’t moving, and his hand is resting on Klaus’s cheek, in his hair, gentle and warm, and then Dave is drawing him in, guiding him forward until their lips touch; it’s not an explosion of passion, it’s not fireworks or butterflies, it’s nothing like what he’s seen or read the first kiss with your true love is supposed to be- it’s deeper than that, molten, sinking into his bones like lava, slowly and completely, until it’s all that he is)_

With shaky hands, Klaus reached into his pocket and drew out the plastic bauble, popping it open and holding it out to Dave, who is staring at it with wide eyes, and it’s- it’s wrong, it’s not at all what Dave deserves, he deserves fanfare and romance and every goddamn star in the universe, but it’s all that Klaus has to offer. 

“I don’t have a whole lot I can give you,” Klaus said softly. “Just little ol’ me, and my broken heart, and this 25¢ ring that I got out of a vending machine in a cheap doughnut shop. But. I love you, god do I love you, more than anything, and I hope that it’s enough.” 

Dave is still staring at him, except his eyes are watery now, and there was a moment of panic where Klaus thought Dave was going to come to his senses and run for the hills but- but then Dave shoved the box of doughnuts out of the way and dragged Klaus into his lap, pressing sugary kisses to his lips and saying, “Klaus, I would be an absolute moron to say no to you.” 

Klaus swore his heart stopped beating, just for a moment, before absolutely erupting with joy. 

Dave offered him his hand, wriggling his fingers pointedly, and Klaus laughed delightedly and tried to slide the ring onto his ring finger, except it wouldn’t fit , so he pushed it onto Dave’s pinky finger instead. 

“It’s a privilege, you know,” Dave murmured, and hugged him tighter, staring down at the cheap metal on his finger like it was worth a million dollars. 

Klaus tucked his face into the crook of Dave’s neck, smiling so widely it hurt, fingers tangled with his fiancé’s (god, he never thought he’d get to call anyone that), chest warm and bubbling with happiness and love. “What is?” 

Dave pressed a delicate kiss to the top of his head and murmured, “Being trusted with your heart.” 

Klaus felt himself blush, and pressed a kiss to Dave’s neck. “Dave, lovely, you’ve had it.” 

“Oh?” Dave asked lightly. “How long?” 

“Since that first night in Saigon; maybe even before.” 

“ Oh, ” Dave murmured, soft and awed. “God, I love you.” 

Klaus couldn’t help the smile that took over his face, heart fluttering in his chest, gazing up at the man of his dreams with hope in his heart- hope for the future, hope for them, the knowledge that they get a life together (they they get a life at all) warming him from the inside out. 

“I love you, too.” 

_(Klaus remembered the first and second and third night in Saigon; he remembered stolen kisses under the moonlight with the smooth bark of a palm tree at his back; he remembered that night in the shoddy motel when he’d declared his love for this beautiful, strong, vulnerable, intelligent man who had saved him from the war, from the time period, from himself; he remembered hot blood beneath his palms and blinding fear clouding his mind and the heartbeat that sputtered to a stop underneath his fingertips; he remembered curling up beneath star-ladden skies and talking about themselves, about the future, about the life they were going to have together, and he knows, without a shadow of a doubt, that he’ll never know love like he does now, and that he never wants to)_

***

Klaus had only left the room for ten minutes. 

Ten minutes, wherein he raced into the kitchen to shove as much food into a duffle bag as possible, content to spend _at least_ a few more days in his bedroom (Dave had been in Five’s room for a couple of months, he could handle a couple of days in Klaus’s), where he wouldn’t have to deal with his siblings and their questions and life. 

Ten minutes had, apparently, been too long. 

When he’d returned, his own door had been closed and locked (Klaus had replaced the lock three days ago after Five had walked in on them during a rather intense half naked make out session since that was _all_ they could do considering Dave was still healing, but he was seriously regretting it now) , and he could hear Luther and Diego’s muffled voices on the other side. 

He had tried to sneak into the room seven different ways, including through the air ducts, but _somehow,_ he had been found. Every. Single. Time.

When Five had teleported into the air ducts with him and threatened him with bodily harm in a _very_ creative manner, well, Klaus figured he may as well apply _some_ of the patience he had learned in Vietnam, lest he be killed by an angry teen with access to a truly abundant amount of pointy weapons. 

_However_ , that did nothing to curb his worry, because Dave was alone in a locked room with Diego and Luther, and that certainly couldn’t mean anything good; Christ, they hadn’t even _met_ yet, or they hadn’t until the pair of them decided to barge into Klaus’s bedroom the moment he wasn’t there. He didn’t _think_ his brothers would decide to murder and/or maim his still recovering fiancé, especially not together, but their tempers had always been short, and Dave didn’t tend to be someone who stood by and took shit, even if he had discovered endless wells of patience over the ten months he spent in the middle of a war zone with _Klaus_. 

It was nearly twenty minutes later when the door opened, with a vaguely green looking Dave walking slowly out of the room like he was in a daze, Luther and Diego scowling behind his back. 

Klaus frowned and made grabby hands for his fiancé; Dave positively lit up when he saw Klaus waiting, however, and didn’t hesitate to step into his open arms. 

“Your brothers are terrifying,” Dave mumbled into Klaus’s hair, and Klaus sighed deeply. 

“They’re big softies on the inside, don’t you worry your pretty little head.” 

Dave grumbled something under his breath, and pressed a kiss to Klaus’s temple. “They want to see you, next.” 

Klaus made a face but nodded, taking a moment to revel once more in the fact that Dave was _here_ and _alive_ and they were actually fucking _engaged_ before he reluctantly stepped out of his fiancé’s arms and made his way into the room, raising a brow when Luther closed the door behind him, the lock clicking ominously. 

“Um, _mein bruders_ , despite what you may think I _do_ have standards, and I draw the line at kinky three way sex with my brothers.” 

Luther abruptly went very green, and Diego actually _gagged_ , which, rude much? 

“No!” Luther spluttered, and abruptly tried to get serious, clearing his throat and deepening his voice comically. “No, no, this is- we’re trying to tell you that if you _ever_ hurt Dave, we-”

“Oh my god,” Klaus gasped, mirrored by Ben who had wandered straight through the wall and was currently perched on Diego’s dresser, looking deeply unimpressed. “Oh my god, is this a shovel talk?” Klaus clapped his hands together in delight. 

“ _Yes,_ ” Luther stressed. “Like I was saying, if you-”

“Oh, I’ve never gotten one of these before!” Klaus squealed, hopping from foot to foot in excitement because it was _true_ , and getting one from his own _brothers_? Oh, that was absolutely marvelous (and maybe it made his heart swell, just a bit, when he realized they had already accepted Dave into their weird, funky little family). 

“ _Klaus_ ,” Luther snapped. “Focus. We’re trying to- just, _if_ you do, we won’t hesitate to-”

“Hurt me back?” Klaus asked with a beaming grin. “ _Spank me, daddy_ , _it hurts so good_ ,” he giggled, batting his eyelashes before winking at Luther. Luther went bright red. 

Ben groaned. “You’re disgusting, Klaus.” 

“No!” Luther denied hastily, looking like he might actually puke. 

“Okay, okay,” Klaus flapped his hands. “Sorry, continue. Hurting, maiming, disowning, blah blah blah-”

“That’s exactly what we’ll-” Luther made a disgusted face and shuddered.. “Okay, no, you’ve ruined it, I’m out.” And then he marched determinedly over to the door, forgoing the lock entirely to just yank the door knob off and practically run from the room. 

Diego and Klaus both peered after him, Klaus meeting Dave’s stunned gaze from his place on the other side of the door. 

“Don’t worry,” Klaus assured. “He was just feeling a bit peckish.” He clapped his hands together and turned back to Diego. “Well, dear brother, anything to add?” 

Diego eyed him for a minute before waving him off. “Nah.” 

Klaus’s eyebrows shot up. “Nothing?” He asked incredulously. 

Diego just offered a small, private smile. “I don’t need to, bro.” 

Klaus stared at him in astonishment and then laughed nervously. “Clearly you’ve forgotten who you’re talking to. It’s _me,_ Di, and while your faith in me is both shocking and pleasing, it’s clearly misplaced-”

“No,” Diego shook his head. “It’s not.” He pointed to the hallway, where Dave was still watching with rapt attention. “You love him, bro, so much it’s actually kind of disgusting how cute it is.” 

“He’s right, kiddo,” Five said abruptly from behind Klaus, causing him to yelp and spin around because where the _hell_ did he even come from- “Luther means well, but he’s never been good at reading social cues. You love Dave, and he loves you.” Five shrugged. 

“Which means,” Diego said, with the confidence of a man who _understood_ , who knew and had love, and lost it, too. “Even if you do hurt each other, it won’t be permanent. You’ll work through it, and make sure you never do it again.” 

“And, at the end of the day, you’ll still be just as in love as you were at the start,” Five finished succinctly. 

Klaus stared between the two of them in shock, mirrored by Ben. 

“Did they _rehearse_ that?” Ben asked, still gaping at the pair. 

“That’s a good question,” Klaus said faintly. 

Five’s brow furrowed in irritation. “What’s a good question?” 

“Nothing!” Klaus hurried to say, flapping his hands at his clearly psychotic brothers. “Nothing at all, I’m just going to go spend time with my fiancé now, goodbye!” He raised his hand ( _goodbye_ ) and waggled his fingers before rushing out to Dave, grabbing his hand and dragging him away. 

Even Dave looked shocked. “Did they rehearse that?” He asked, fingers automatically curling around Klaus’s hand. 

“ _I don’t know_ , and that’s the scary part,” Klaus whispered, causing Dave to let out a surprised laugh, both of them nearly crashing into Allison as she suddenly burst from her room.

“Oh my god,” She breathed faintly, and Klaus spotted Five over her shoulder before he blinked out of her room in a flash of blue. 

“ _Oh my god,_ ” Klaus groaned as Vanya’s bedroom door burst open as well. “Is he telling everyone?” 

“Oh my god!” Vanya squealed in excitement. 

“Is that-” Allison started. 

“That’s-” Vanya said over her, and Klaus glared over her shoulder at Five. 

“You hate me, don’t you?” he asked, and Five smiled serenely. 

“What?” He asked, all boyish charm and _innocence_ , and Klaus didn’t believe it for a second. “I would _never_ do anything to inconvenience you, Klaus.” 

“I literally hate you.” 

“Klaus!” Allison admonished. “Introduce us!” 

Klaus groaned but said in defeat. “Dave, this is Allison and Vanya. Allison, Vanya, this is Dave-”

“His fiancé,” Dave added proudly. 

Somehow, Allison’s eyes got even wider, and Vanya looked like she was about to burst into tears. 

“Your _what_?!” Allison screeched, and Klaus winced at the sheer volume of it. 

“Oh, congratulations!” Vanya said with a beaming smile, pulling both Klaus and Dave into a hug. Klaus couldn’t help the small smile that broke out at his sister’s easy acceptance. 

“I-” Allison shook her head and then swept both of them up in another hug as soon as Vanya had released them. “Oh my god, seriously, congratulations. That’s _incredible_ , Klaus!” She pulled back, offering Dave a watery smile. “I’m so happy for you both.” But then her eyes zeroed in on Dave, suddenly intense. “If you _ever_ hurt my brother, they will not find your body. Got it?” 

“Annnnnd that’s our cue!” Klaus said loudly, immediately dragging Dave into the nearest unoccupied room they could find and slamming the door shut behind him, closing his eyes and resting his forehead against the wood for a moment before turning slowly to face Dave with a sheepish smile. 

“So,” Dave smiled. “Your family is, uh, intense.” 

“You don’t know the half of it, lovely.” 

***

_-Two Years Later-_

Klaus ran his hands down his skirt, smoothing out any wrinkles in the soft fabric and twirling in the mirror, smiling happily at the way the fabric swirled around him.. It was a lovely number, rose colored and flowy, falling just below his knees. Dave had gotten it for him last Christmas, and Klaus had worn it so much he swore he would need to start oiling the zipper soon. Paired with a white sheer cropped top with long bell sleeves, he thought he looked quite nice, and he knew Dave would think so, too (though, Klaus could have been wearing a rainbow Speedo and a fur coat and Dave still would’ve told him he looked beautiful). 

With a soft sigh, Klaus followed the sounds of music drifting from the kitchen, gently trailing his fingertips along the pale yellow wall of the hallway, eyes finding the wooden frames lining the walls on autopilot, drifting from picture to picture, their life in snapshots pasted on their walls. 

_(it’s Klaus’s first Christmas in Vietnam and he’s cold; his fingertips and toes have gone numb despite the fire his platoon has huddled around. Klaus glances up, and catches Dave’s eyes on his, and something in his chest starts to thaw)_

The closer he got to the kitchen, the louder the music was, and Klaus couldn’t help but smile when he saw Dave humming and swaying along to the beat, a frilly white apron tied around his waist and a spatula in his hand as he cooked (Dave had discovered a love for brunch, and it had become something of a tradition for them every Saturday afternoon, one they _never_ missed). 

“Don’t you make an absolutely _fabulous_ sight,” Klaus murmured, smirking as Dave startled and turned to face him with a bashful smile. 

“Thanks, darlin’,” Dave said as he made his way over to where Klaus was leaning against the doorframe. “But nothin’ can compare to how you look right now.” Dave wound his arms around Klaus’s waist and pressed a kiss to the corner of his lips, soft and gentle and loving. 

_(it’s their first Christmas in their new home, and Dave has found a Holiday channel on his new radio; he’s pulled Klaus close and they’re dancing, soft and slow as flames flicker in the fireplace, because they have all the time in the world, now)_

Klaus laughed, bright and happy, and draped his arms over Dave’s shoulders. 

“Oh? Just right now?” Klaus teased, and Dave snorted. 

“Fishin’ for compliments, are we?” 

“What? Me?” Klaus gasped, throwing a hand ( _hello_ ) over his heart. “ _Never_ .” _Always._

Dave laughed, pressed another kiss to his lips, and then pulled away, turning back towards the stove. “Well, I could wax poetic about how much I love your hair, n’your lips, or how beautiful I think you are in the mornin’ when you’re all sleepy eyed and soft, or I could make sure the eggs don’t burn.” 

Klaus laughed in delight as his heart went warm and syrupy, his chest practically bursting with joy. 

“Why not both?” He asked, and Dave turned his head to flash Klaus another blinding smile over his shoulder. 

_(it’s been eight and a half months since Klaus arrived in Vietnam, and Dave is gently pressing a cheap plastic ring into Klaus’s hands that he picked up at the market when they were on leave; later, Klaus will cry when he loses it on the battlefield. “One day,” Dave whispers. “I’m going to be able to give you one for real.”)_

“How about,” Dave said. “You go and feed the dogs while I finish up in here, and then we can go and eat in the chair hangin’ from the oak tree?” 

Klaus gasped. “Dave, you _know_ that chair is my weakness!” 

“You’d better get to it then, huh?” Dave grinned cheekily at him, and Klaus pointed at him. 

“You devious little thing you, I love it, I love you, you had better be finished soon otherwise I’ll just have to sit outside looking pretty all by my lonesome!” Klaus hollered as he pushed the screen door open and stepped out onto the porch, Dave’s answering laugh echoing behind him. 

Klaus giggled and scooped some dog food out of the plastic container by the door, dumping it into the three bowls and whistling sharply. He scooped some into a smaller bowl at the foot of the porch stairs, too, for the cats (Dave said they couldn’t keep strays, but Klaus knew for a fact that Dave had already named every single one of them). 

The dogs came racing through the yard, tearing across the grass, tails wagging in excitement- Daisy nearly brained herself on the hanging chair, and Charlie nearly brained himself on _her_ . Puddles was _much_ more refined, trotting after her brother and sister with an entirely unimpressed look that was completely ruined by how quickly her tail was wagging. 

_(it’s been eight and a half months since they moved in, and Dave is positively beaming as he presents Klaus with their new rings, both of them engraved with a year; “1968,” Dave is explaining, “for the year I promised to get you one. 2019, ” he slid the ring onto Klaus’s finger, “for the year I finally did” )_

Klaus rolled his eyes fondly, crouching down obligingly to give the dogs their respective pets and pats before leaving them to their food, stepping off the porch and onto the grass, wriggling his toes in the lush greenery. 

He made his way over to the large chair hanging from one of the oak trees sturdy branches and settled himself down on the plush cushions with a contented sigh. 

It really was a beautiful day, the weather at a perfect balmy seventy-five degrees, the sun shining brightly overhead, soft rays filtering gently through the leaves of the oak. The sunflowers looked absolutely _stunning,_ their red and yellow petals open and full. The tulips, though, were the true showstoppers; they had them in every color they could find, bright reds and purples and pinks and so many more, taking up most of the garden and lined in planters following the perimeter of their porch. Dave hadn’t been kidding about his love for tulips, and what Dave loved, Klaus was more than happy to indulge. Besides, they _were_ really quite pretty. 

He let his gaze down to their vegetable garden, where the chickens were idly pecking at the squash and pumpkins that had _finally_ started to grow, let himself get lost in the gentle breeze ruffling his hair, in the quiet _moo_ ’s from their cows in the pasture, in the lovely floral scent permeating the air. 

_(it’s October 1st, and Klaus is sitting alone in the tent, and he’s singing Happy Birthday quietly to himself; before he can finish, Dave steps inside, covered in mud and blood and holding a single cupcake that Klaus doesn’t know how he even managed to get, one lit candle perched in the frosting; Klaus splits it in half, and Dave finishes the song)_

It had been a year and a half since they had gotten married, and about a year since they had moved into this beautiful little home, on this gorgeous plot of land, with their dogs and their chickens and their flowers, with each other, and it never failed to amazing Klaus, to absolutely _astonish_ him, because this was his. This was _theirs._ They had both hurt and cried and bled for this wonderful little life they had built together, and it had been worth every new scar, every shed tear, every hellish nightmare that had them screaming out into the dark, every flashback that had them cowering in fear on the ground. Because, despite the odds being definitively stacked against them, from the moment Klaus dropped into Dave’s life in nothing but a bath towel and a fur coat, _they had done it_ . They didn’t just survive, they _flourished_ , they built a life off of patchwork and paper hearts even when everything in the whole god damned universe tried to stop them. 

_(it’s October 1st, and Klaus is sitting at his kitchen table, his hands glowing blue, as all of his siblings settle down in the six empty chairs that they made sure they would have come their birthday; Dave is coming in with a cake full of candles, and he’s singing Happy Birthday with a bright, beaming smile and Klaus’s cheeks hurt from smiling so much)_

Klaus heard the screen door bang open and turned his eyes to Dave; beautiful, intelligent, strong, and so very _brave_ , making his way across the yard with a tray balanced in one hand and their little portable radio in the other, music playing softly. It’s a different song, now, one Klaus hadn’t heard in a _very_ long time, and it made him smile, the place in his chest that beat-beat-beats for Dave positively blooming with love and joy. 

Dave settled beside him on the chair, setting the radio on the grass and the tray on their legs, left hand reaching for Klaus’s (Dave’s ring glinted brightly in the sunlight), lips tilted in a warm smile. Klaus squeezed his husband's hand and rested his head on his shoulder, letting his eyes fall closed as he began to sing along with the song. 

_“Let me sleep all night in your soul kitchen…_ ”

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a comment or kudos on your way out! I live for them! 💖💖💖


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